by Gina LaManna
“Gem, if this is what I think it is, you should have called the police when they first started.”
“Open it,” he commanded.
I opened it. Inside there was a message taped to the card. The message had been typed on what would likely turn out to be standard computer paper and ink. The tape showed no signs of prints as Gem had already confirmed.
Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart. If you think I missed your spontaneous trip with your girlfriend yesterday, I didn’t. It was very hurtful, but I’m a forgiving person. Safe travels... for now. We’ll meet again soon.
xoxo.
“This isn’t the first, I take it.” The words came out of my mouth like a statement. I had the sinking feeling that I knew exactly what Gem was going through in an uncanny parallel to what I’d been through myself. “Do you have the others?”
Gem’s face was impossible to read, but he nodded.
“When did this start?”
“A few weeks back. Slow at first, a letter a week. Then last week, it picked up.” His jaw tightened. “This is the first time she’s mentioned someone else. You. That’s what changed, Kate. When my little admirer brought you into this, I knew I needed to keep you away before you got hurt. On my account.”
“You should have reported this right away. This could turn dangerous. He or she is obviously watching you.” I flipped the letter over and looked at the lips pressed against the envelope. “We should have this tested for DNA.”
“I have,” Gem said. “Nothing.”
“Money opens lots of doors, doesn’t it?”
“You can’t begin to imagine.” A haunted look floated in Gem’s eyes. “Running a company the size of Gem Industries, there is a certain reputation I need to maintain. Exposing a weakness such as this—”
“How is this a weakness?”
“Someone, likely a woman, is sending threatening love notes to the CEO?” Gem gave a wry smile. “Not the best PR campaign.”
“Man or a woman,” I countered. “Either can be dangerous with a weapon in hand. If any of the other letters have contained outright threats, that is very serious.”
“I don’t want this to become public. I don’t want to file a report,” Gem said. “The reason I came to you in the coffee shop the other day was to ask if you’d be interested in moonlighting as an investigator for me. It’d be on contract, and I can assure you, I’d pay handsomely.”
“I’m sorry, but I have to decline,” I said. “I’m being pulled in enough directions already.”
“I see.”
“Still, I encourage you to report this to the proper channels—”
“No, I think I’ll pass.”
“This could turn very, very serious.”
“That’s why I pay handsomely for a security team. I will look into another private investigator. I thought I would ask you before I did any such thing as you’re my first choice. But if you’re not interested, I understand.”
“I want to help you! I just think we need to do this properly. Go through the appropriate channels.”
“Like you did to get into my private offices? You’re clearly a stickler for the rules.”
“I made a mistake. I apologized.”
“Then, I’ll apologize for burdening you with this.”
“I think you’re making the wrong decision,” I said. “The police have departments and teams that can help you.”
“Are you telling me that you’ve never let something go unreported to the police?” Gem’s eyes landed on me in an uncanny way that had me wondering if he knew more than he was letting on. “You’ve never received notes from some of your admirers and not reported it to the proper authorities?”
“I am the proper authorities!” I rose to my feet, the coffee cups rattling against the saucers. “It’s different. I can take care of myself.”
“And I can’t?” Gem murmured quietly. “I see we’ve reached an impasse. As I suspected, it might be best for us to refrain from having contact until the source of the letters is unmasked.”
“That’s not what I’m saying.”
“No, it’s what I’m saying.” Gem took the letter off the table, returned to his desk, and opened the top drawer. He dropped the note inside and slammed the drawer shut. “Shall I walk you out or call Trudy to escort you to the lobby?”
“I’d like to see the other letters.”
“Why?”
I rested a hand on my hip. “I understand what you’re going through. More than you know.”
Gem hesitated. “I don’t want this reported or documented. The risks are not worth the reward.”
“You won’t risk your company’s reputation for your life?”
“That is correct.”
I gave him a wry smile. “That sort of dedication makes it easy to see how you’ve become so successful.”
Gem matched my smile. “You’re one to talk. Plus, I don’t want to take up the police’s time with matters I can probably resolve in-house.”
“But you’ll take up my time?”
His grin grew brighter. “I’d love to take up more of your time.”
“I won’t let you pay me.”
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying, detective?”
“I’ll make you a deal,” I countered. “I’ll take a quick look—off the clock. But if I can’t find anything in the next few days, you’ll let me hand it off to the proper authorities.”
“Fine.”
“That was easy,” I said suspiciously. “A little too easy.”
“I have no doubt you’ll figure it out,” Gem said. “So, the decision is a simple one. It’ll never get to the next step because you won’t let it.”
“That’s a lot of confidence to have in a woman who smells like buttered crab.”
Gem laughed. “That’s exactly why I have confidence in you. I’ve never seen anyone so determined to get what they want.”
“The rest of the letters?” I asked. “I assume you’ve had them tested for DNA and prints?”
“I have. They’re all clean.”
“We’ll see about that.”
Gem gave me a thin smile, then pulled out a small bag and carefully set a stack of envelopes inside. “Enjoy. Makes for interesting bedtime reading.”
“I’ve got enough of my own,” I muttered. Gem shot me a curious stare, and I quickly opted for a subject change. “There’s another reason I came here today.”
“I figured.”
“Brandy Lee,” I said. “Are you familiar with the name?”
“Yes, she’s my party planner. She’s heading up the Valentine’s Day event you refuse to attend with me. Has Russo decided if he’ll come along for the festivities?”
“Ask him yourself,” I grumbled. “Anyway, I stopped by her office earlier to ask her a few questions, and the receptionist pointed me here.”
“I believe you’re in the right place; Brandy should be working today. Though I’ve been in meetings and haven’t seen her.”
“May I speak with her?”
“I assume this isn’t a festive sort of chat?”
“Not exactly,” I said. “I have a few questions to ask her in regard to a case I’m working.”
Gem’s gaze was piercing.
“Not that case,” I said. “A different one. It won’t take long.”
“She has an office downstairs. Ms. Karp can show you to it.”
“Because she and I are such good friends.”
“Go easy on her, Rosetti. She’s just following orders.”
I hesitated a moment, then, “What do you think of Brandy Lee?”
“Think of her?” Gem echoed, surprised. “Not much, to be honest. I hired her to plan the party. This is the first time we’ve worked together. My interactions with her are generally limited to questionnaires fired into my inbox about what I like to eat, the colors I prefer, which drinks should be served. That sort of titillating conversation.”
I smirked at Gem’s sarcasm. “If you don’t
like the headache of hosting parties, why do you do it?”
“Historically, it’s been the only way for me to see you outside of a murder investigation,” Gem said cheekily. “Though it seems my plan to win you over for Valentine’s Day is falling through.”
“Don’t count your cards yet. I didn’t RSVP no.”
Gem watched me struggle, humor dancing in his eyes. “You don’t do this often, do you?”
“What?”
“Flirt. Banter.”
“This isn’t flirting.”
“Then what is it?”
“Questioning,” I said. “Tell me more about Brandy. How’d you meet her?”
“She came as a recommendation from one of my assistants.”
Before I could add a follow up, Trudy reappeared at the doorway.
“Mr. Gem, I am sorry to interrupt,” she said with a flash of her red-lipped grin. “But your associates downstairs have just been served dessert. If you’d like to keep on schedule, you have three minutes before the meeting resumes.”
“I think we’re done here, yes?” Gem directed the question at me.
I nodded my head. “I’ll be in touch.”
“Thank you, detective.”
“Who knows? Maybe you’ll even answer your phone this time.”
He blinked at me, a smile brightening his face. “My number is never off limits to you.”
Chapter 13
Gem accompanied me downstairs, weaving us through the conference room.
“If there’s anything I can do to help, you know where to find me,” he said, waiting as I boarded the elevator. “Have a great day, detective.”
I nodded at him, and before I knew it, the doors had closed, and the elevator was carting me downstairs. By the time it deposited me on the first floor, Ms. Karp was waiting for me—obviously having received a message from Gem.
“Hi there,” I said. “I think Gem should have—”
“Right this way.” Her voice was clipped as she spun around and started walking.
As Ms. Karp sashayed through an offshoot wing of the main lobby, I found myself wondering if she and Gem had a more complicated history than either of them had let on. I knew nothing about Gem’s dating history.
It’d be an interesting read, no doubt—a man with his level of wealth had probably dated celebrities and royalty and athletes and God only knew who else. Maybe I could get Lassie to do some social media stalking and fill me in on the details of Gem’s history. Just for curiosity’s sake. And for the sake of Gem’s life, seeing as he now had a creepy stalker. Investigating his love life was practically in my (off the books) job description.
Ms. Karp pulled to a stop outside of an office. “Ms. Lee works out of here. It’s a temporary setup for party planners, caterers, event staff, etcetera.”
“Great, thanks.”
I turned and knocked on the door to the office as the receptionist disappeared back down the hallway. It opened against my touch, revealing not one tiny office, but a small web of hallways that branched off to an entire wing of independent rooms.
From the lobby area, I glimpsed a kitchenette down the hall and several clear doors that probably led to private offices or conference rooms. A woman poked her head out of the first one, looking toward the source of sound.
“Hi,” I said. “I’m looking for Brandy Lee—Alastair Gem told me she’d be down here.”
“Does Mr. Gem need something?” The woman’s eyebrows furrowed, and she pushed bushy orange hair away from her face. She was somewhat plump and wore her weight extremely well. A fashionable dress wrapped around her waist, and on her feet were sky-high heels. “Oh, sorry. I’m Brandy. Brandy Lee. Who are you?”
“My name’s Detective Kate Rosetti, and I have a few questions to ask you regarding an active investigation. Is now a good time?”
Brandy’s blue eyes immediately squinted at me from behind trendy round specs. “Do I need my lawyer for this?”
“I don’t know, do you?”
“What’s this about?”
“I’m hoping you can help me out with a bit of information about Harry Brine.”
“Oh, Harry.” A breath crashed out from Brandy’s lips. “Poor guy. I feel so bad for him.”
“For Harry? Why?”
“He’s dead!” She frowned and studied me. “Isn’t he?”
“Can we sit down?” I asked. “I promise this won’t take long.”
Brandy led me into her private office and shut the door. She offered me coffee, but I declined. It was too soon after the brilliant coffee I’d had in Gem’s private office, and I couldn’t bring myself to ruin it with a mediocre one.
“So, Harry is dead, right?” Brandy said. “I read the story in the paper. I suspected something was up, but I didn’t dare go over there. I didn’t really want to see anything gross, you know? I’m queasy at body stuff.”
My gut instincts were firing on all cylinders, telling me that Brandy couldn’t have been the killer, but I fought them back to make room for my questions. After all, good killers could put on a persona. A very believable persona, as evidenced by the slew of serial killers that had been dubbed charming.
“Harry Brine is dead, I’m sorry. But I was actually wondering if you could tell me about your relationship with him?”
“Relationship? Oh, no, it wasn’t like that.” Brandy waved her hands. “Nothing like that.”
“Like what?”
“Do you think I was dating Harry?” She frowned. “Actually, how did you get my name in the first place?”
“I’m a detective.”
“Of course,” Brandy said, as if that explained everything in a perfectly clear way. “Anyway, there was nothing romantic about our relationship, I assure you. I suppose you could say we were friends, but in a business-colleague sort of way.”
“You worked with him?”
“For him,” she corrected. She gave a fond smile. “He was my first client.”
“For Glitterati party planning?”
“Oh, no. For Brandy Lee Events.”
“I thought—” I hesitated. “I just came from the Glitterati offices. I thought that’s where you worked.”
“It is where I work currently, but I’ve been dreaming of starting my own company forever. This year, January 1st, I decided to do it. After I booked my first two gigs, I gave notice to Rita—she owns Glitterati. I told her I’d finish out our current commitments, which will take me to the end of February. Then I’m officially on my own!” She waved her hands and gave a muffled squeak of excitement. “Nerve-racking, but I hope it works out.”
“Harry Brine was your first client for Brandy Lee Events?”
“He was,” she said. “I’d met him a while ago. Glitterati had done a past event for the TV station where he works. I met him there. We never dated, but we sort of hovered on the edge if that makes sense. I reached out to him in January, and it turned out his birthday was coming up. I volunteered to throw him a big bash at the station for a discount if he’d promise to share my card around the office.”
“Sounds like a win-win.”
“Oh, it definitely was. It’s just...it’s unfortunate he’ll never get to see his party. It was James Bond themed. Just a few weeks away.”
“It is definitely a shame. Were there any feelings of jealousy about you branching out from Rita or anyone at Glitterati?”
“Not at all.” Brandy gave me a pert smile. “There’s plenty of business to go around. Plus, Rita and I are like sisters. She’s super supportive of me.”
“How very generous.” I glanced down at my hands. “Ms. Lee, phone records indicate that you called Mr. Brine over ten times in the past six days?”
“His party was next week. I had a lot of details to finalize.”
“That seems like... a lot. For a business relationship, I mean.”
“You obviously haven’t worked with Brandy Lee Events,” Brandy said proudly. “I like to nail every detail. I can probably list all the calls, if you�
�d like. One was about the guest list—a few women had registered plus-one’s who shouldn’t have. Then, I had a question about supplying some masks—making it a bit like a masquerade ball for the ladies. I had another question about the drinks—I thought the signature cocktail should contain one part alcohol to two parts punch, but he thought—”
“I see,” I said quickly. “I can see how those phone calls add up fast.”
“Like I said, Brandy Lee Events likes to get every detail perfect. By the way, is the department looking to celebrate any upcoming events? Maybe a St. Paddy’s day get together, or a—I don’t know—murder-solving party?”
“A murder-solving party?”
“Oh! Murder mystery theme! How perfect is that?!”
I just stared at Brandy.
“Right,” she said. “You probably solve plenty of murders at your day job. That’s like, I dunno, a doctor going home and trying to relax by watching Grey’s Anatomy.”
I didn’t think it was like that at all, but I couldn’t bring myself to burst Brandy’s bubble. “Just a few last questions for you. Did you have the garage code to Mr. Brine’s house?”
“No,” she said. “I’ve never stepped foot in his garage. I’ve been to his house once or twice, but we stayed in the kitchen mostly. I think—the last few times I saw him, he was extra polite. It made me wonder if he was seeing someone.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Well, I sort of mentioned that we hovered on the edge of dating.”
“Yes.”
“Hovered...” Brandy made some awkward gestures with her hands. “I should’ve said hovered on calling it anything official. We did, you know, spend some time together.”
“You slept with Harry Brine?”
The pink tinge in her cheeks told me the answer was an affirmative. She sounded defensive when she spoke. “We were both single.”
“How long ago?”
“I don’t know. Okay, I do know the exact day,” she said, flustered. “October 31st of last year. Glitterati threw that party I mentioned for the TV station where Harry works. I went as a sexy police officer, and he went as a sexy convict. I mean, how could we not get together?”