“No, thanks, Roddy. We’ve got everyone in place. This firm is top. Someone on Mo…Ms. Whitman twenty four seven. In the room and watching the elevator. An investigator will be doing backgrounds on everyone to make sure the cops didn’t miss anything. That includes everyone. You, your wife, even me.”
“I am understanding. Whatever you think necessary, Zack. I am behind you.” Roddy studied his cigar thoughtfully. “Do Monica say anything to you to indicate she is no satisfied? With the company? With me? Sorry, it not fair to ask. I know you cannot tell me what she say to you. It just she is different this couple days. Is maybe too much stress with the murder and thing with Claude. We have been offered to continue run a few weeks. Here at Chicago.”
Zack’s surprise was evident. “I thought the show was tying up after Saturday. Not that I wouldn’t be sorry to see you go.”
“I would be sorry to lose you Zack. If you did not already have job, I would offer you a permanent position as security.” Zack noticed that Roddy studied his reaction. “Will you stay on for the time being? For extended run? To be honest I talk to Senor Tyler. He say it up to you.”
Zack looked thoughtful. The manager had noticed the difference in his and Mo’s rapport. He felt certain something had happened between them. “Actually, I was thinking that we should give this firm a couple days to settle in and then I should take some time to sort some stuff out. It might be awhile before I’m back on the job, but I need to be more active with...things. I have to say no, Roddy. With thanks. I…”
“Don’t be a hasty, Zack.” He blew out some smoke. “Firm I sure is good, because you say so. But Mo trusts you, and I trust you. I don’t turn her over to strangers!”
“I was a stranger when you hired me. I think Mo needs the space. She needs less obtrusive protection. The team will work better if they don’t perceive me as sticking my nose in. This is what you need. This is what she needs.”
“So. You know what I need do you?” Mo leaned against the open door’s frame. Her black eyes held his. The tone was resentful. She felt foolish but couldn’t help herself.
“This security team is top. You won’t even know they’re there. They can offer better protection than I can by myself.” It was difficult to keep his voice steady when his heart had jumped into his throat and was beating double time. Get a grip, he told himself and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I can’t stay for the extension. It’s best to let the new team settle in and do their jobs. It’s been a pleasure Ms. Whitman and I have complete confidence you’ll be happier, happy with the new arrangements.”
“Well, I’m sure your right, Detective Burnham. How long before you…before you will be leaving?” Mo pasted a bland expression on her face trying to keep her tone disinterested.
“A couple days should do it. They just need time to get the lay of the land.” Zack explained working hard at a professional tone.
“Then I can rely on you for at least two more days. Thank you so much for arranging everything for the least inconvenience. When we’re in Chicago again, I hope you’ll get in touch.” Mo tried to swallow away the tightness in her throat.
“Thank you, I appreciate that. Roddy, Ms. Whitman wanted to see you and I guess that’s all. I’ll go check on things.” Zack made his departure with a polite nod to Mo.
“I just wanted to clarify the schedule. And I want Deb to perform Sunday Matinees when we get back from our holiday. Let’s get her out there, I need the break.” Mo had her arms braced and fists clenched in preparation for battle.
“She has no rehearsed with Haaken yet.” Roddy referred to the new aerial talent just hired. And he no have it down. D.C. When we are in D.C.”
“Then let her do it with Claude. She can do it. She’s nervous but she can do it.” She pressed her lips tight in irritation. Roddy started to give her one of his more withering looks then wondered what the irritation was really about.
“Claude will be angry.”
“Screw Claude.” She felt a little guilty taking that attitude. But not too guilty.
“Okay, screw Claude.” Roddy shrugged with an amused look. “Now about Zack…” he started.
“All the arrangements are fine. I’m going up to Montreal for the break. How about you and Luciana? Deb said she wants to stay and rehearse. Is Haaken going to be able to work with her? I need the break with, with everything. Will Claude stay and coach them? Oh, look at the time. I’ve got to get to Sally. Later, Roddy.” He watched her turn on her slippered heel and slip out the door. He settled back and relit his cigar thinking. Momo is in love with Zack. He smiled and sucked his cigar.
Eight
Mo turned toward her room as the elevator doors closed on Zack. He had escorted her politely to her room so she could relax before the show. Then he excused himself saying he needed to coordinate some things with hotel security and the private firm he had brought in. She ran a bath and sank into the tub letting the jets whirl around her. The last two days had been tense and disappointing. She had no choice but to conclude that not only had she been mistaken about Zack’s interest in her, he had been downright offended at what he obviously considered a cheap come on. In this day and age, she thought.
Well, if he was so easily offended and judgmental then he could go back to Tyler’s office with her blessing. How she’d thought he was a likable, gentle and fair man. Fair her ass. She frowned. She’d known him only two, not quite three weeks. Sure, maybe she had acted on impulse, but what difference did it make? She was really attracted to him and thought… Not the first time anyone ever acted rashly while under the influence of a really hot guy. But to suddenly be so distant? He evidently assumed she hit on men she barely knew all the time. Now he would be gone. Well, so much the better. He’d turned into a distraction and that was something she did not need. She laid back and lowered herself into the tub until all but her nose and eyes were submerged.
How could he just suddenly decide he was going to leave? He was running out like a scared rabbit because she had made it clear she wanted him? She groaned mentally. He would have to do it sometime. It would be best to ask him to pack his things tonight and have him stay in another room. After all she was perfectly safe in the presidential suite. No one could access the room from the elevator without the special key card and it was the only way in since the emergency door was triply bolted. There was the small terrace but it was so high with no exterior access, no one could get to it. At least not without acrobatic skill.
Now she’d have someone else in the next room. Rather than give her comfort she found herself feeling like she had a hollow place in her gut. It would be best to cut things short and move on. It had been a novelty to play body guard for a while but his interest in it had waned. He had his own stuff to deal with and she couldn’t blame him for that. He had lost a close friend. Even worse had found out his friend had been the poster boy for corrupt cops. Circumstances had thrown them together temporarily and now that time was at an end. Now he seemed anxious to make his exit from her life.
She thought of the kiss they’d shared and the hardness of him beneath her own aching body. Her thigh muscles tightened at the thought of them completing what had only just been started. He’d backed out of what his body seemed to so clearly desire. Maybe he still loved his ex. From the few things he had said it didn’t look like he had regrets about being out of his marriage. Still, denial and all. Maybe he feared he couldn’t perform although arousal had not seemed the problem. He was a young, healthy man, but stress, and he’d had some stress, could do strange things. Speaking of stress, why was she analyzing this to death instead of relaxing and stilling her mind for tonight’s performance? If the guy didn’t want to have sex with her for whatever reason he was entitled to be uptight, narrow minded and impotent! Who was she to judge? She was the injured party! The spurned woman! Well, hell hath no fury…and he could pack bags. Why didn’t he just call her a whore? She bet the word had come to mind. Didn’t that whole Madonna/Whore thing go out with the advent of wo
men’s lib?
She had wasted enough time thinking about him and his hang ups. She barely knew the man and had judged wrongly. Okay, he had been kind and helpful and concerned and she had allowed herself to be attracted to him. Was that such a sin? He wasn’t the first attractive man she had ever wanted to have sex with. He was the first to ever say no. And that wasn’t a crime either even if it had been a bit of a shock. So why had she been repeatedly rehashing the scene in her mind? Now, relax, breathe, clear your mind. Don’t think about Zack. Don’t think about kissing Zack. Don’t think about Zack’s …Dammit!
She heard the elevator. She stood up and wringed her hair. She had finally managed to bath while reiterating every thought about Zack she’d ever had since she’d known him. Towel around her head, she grabbed the complimentary robe and donned it with a quick cinch of the belt. No time like the present. She’d tell him he could go ahead and get another room. Why waste his time. Or hers. They were adults and they could end their brief relationship, business relationship, like adults. She would even call Tyler and give him a glowing review of Zack’s performance. She toweled her hair and went to the bedroom door. Taking a breath as if she were about to hurl herself through the air she opened the door.
She saw a tall, broad black man with his back to her as he looked out the window. He turned as she gasped and looked across the room where Zack was coming out of his room, carrying some papers. Then it registered. Al Simpson. Hard core bastard who also happened to be head Greendale Police detective. She looked at Zack in anger. “What’s he doing here?”
“We’re coordinating information with the new security team, the hotel and the police. Al came by to look at the new emergency plan.” He barely gave her a glance.
“Hello, Ms. Whitman.” Al didn’t seem the least awkward or embarrassed to be in the room of the woman he’d accused of murder, being a whore and having an affair with the mayor of Chicago.
“The least you could have done was inform me ahead of time that you were going to invite Detective Simpson into my room.” Mo emphasized the “my”.
“I wanted Detective Simpson to check out the layout of the suite. So there is the second room. You see which is Ms. Whitman’s room. Both rooms have bathrooms and there’s this Juliet here but it’s not easily accessible from outside. I’ll make sure the police get a map of the layout from Vince Smith.” Zack handed Al some papers. They gave each other a long look.
“We don’t believe the murder and the champagne incident are necessarily connected but as a professional courtesy, Greendale Police Department is willing to do whatever it takes to make sure you and your company are safe. My bet is the killer is long gone. And our theory is it was the work of a mentally disturbed fan. We’re hoping for a break to help us identify your friend’s killer but in the meantime, the mayor of Greendale wants to make sure you feel safe while you’re here.” Al made an effort at a friendly grin. It didn’t seem to come naturally to him.
“Nice little speech, Detective Simpson. If you gentlemen are finished I need to get to the coliseum. Detective Burnham, I should be ready in fifteen minutes. If you’ll excuse me.” She eyed Simpson coldly and shot a glare at Zack before slamming the door to her room.
“Mo, Ms. Whitman, the car is here.” Zack had seen Simpson off giving him all the information he’d been able to gather about Ray, Senorita Villareal and Bull Shaughnessy. It wasn’t complete bullshit he thought. They were coordinating emergency steps with the local police but it was also a good cover for meeting Al without drawing attention. The big detective had finally come around after making a few of his own inquiries. Now he was ready to meet La Senorita, and find out just how deep Bull was into the whole scam. Zack wanted to go with him but he knew his job was on the line. With Al’s connection to Bull and his friendship with the local US attorney, he could take it further than Zack could, without anyone questioning him. Al was a very sly investigator despite the fact that Ling Wong’s murder remained unsolved.
Mo came out of the room with dry hair and a summer weight red shift that brushed mid thigh. Her hair was in the long side braid she wore almost every day. No makeup; just redness in her cheeks from the hair dryer or from his own cheek in letting Simpson into her room. Made no difference. Their brief friendship was upended when he found out how she handled a man who said no. He felt confused and guilty. She had fed his guilt by being distant and making it clear she wanted him no where around. How cold she’d been to him in Roddy’s office. He thought he was doing the right thing. He’d hoped they had things straightened out between them but apparently she had taken things very personally. Did she not understand how he would be compromised in his ability to protect her if they had gone any further? He already was compromised by the feelings he come to feel in a very short time. He was having a hard time separating emotion and desire. He’d battled with himself over it from almost the very beginning. He had watched her furtively and thought about her constantly. Even while trying to work out the real circumstances surrounding Ray’s murder.
Now she just wanted him out, it was clear enough. Maybe it would be best if he cleared out of the room without delay. She didn’t really need him there with the new security all around the hotel and coliseum. There was someone watching the elevator at all times. And maybe Al was right. The killer was probably half way across the country. He waited while she collected her bag. They stepped into the elevator and silently rode to the lobby. He put his hand to her elbow as they exited the elevator but she shifted her bag to that arm pulling it out of his grasp. The driver opened the door of the car. He gave the driver a nod and looked around while she adjusted her long legs into the car. Zack closed the door and went around to the other side. He jumped in for the short ride to the coliseum.
“Detective Burnham,” she had donned sunglasses that were unnecessary in the limo. Mo pulled them off and glanced at the driver. She turned to Zack. “It seems you have made all the arrangements. I’m sorry you’ll be leaving us but since you are perhaps it would be better if you moved out of the hotel room tonight. I would feel more comfortable and I think you would too. Of course you can get another room at the company’s expense.”
“I think that’s best. But I’m checking out after the show. You have all the security you need. I’m going to go back to my place.” He looked straight ahead as he spoke. A knot tightened in his chest.
Mo felt a clutch in her chest as well. “That’s settled then. Thank you so much for everything. I hope you feel you’ve been compensated adequately. I’m sure you’re anxious to get back to your life. I hope everything works out for you, with the investigation and everything.” The car pulled up to the coliseum. Zack looked at Mo and suddenly the polite departing words he had formed in his mind left him. “You take care,” was all he could come up with. He went around to open the door but she had jumped out and was dashing toward the coliseum before he had a chance. He followed her as she sped toward the dressing room where she entered and closed the door leaving him standing in the corridor as performers and stagehands dashed around in preparation.
“So Detective, your gig’s up?” Sally stood with costumes draped over her arm. “Word travels fast. Sorry you won’t be with us for the extended run. Good luck with everything, your job and all. We all felt safer with you around. Guess you gotta do what you gotta do. Thanks for everything.”
“Yeah, it’s been great. You’re all very special people.” Zack gave Sally a little smile. She could see the sadness in it.
“Our star attraction is a stubborn thing, but she has a good heart.” Everyone had noticed their friendship developing and everyone had noticed the change. There had been constant speculation about its cause. “I know Mo thinks the world of you. We all do.” Sally stood on her toes stretching to give Zack a kiss on the cheek.
“Always the lady.” Zack smiled and watched as Sally clacked away.
Al Simpson moved down the steps in Rosalie Villareal’s condo building. His large frame moved with the grace of an athlete.
He was quick and light on his feet for a very large man. He shot through the door barely breathing. The anger in him was so volcanic he was afraid he would blow up right in the street taking everything out in his path. He had shown Ms. Villareal, he snorted, the woman, pictures of various suspects. He had shown her photos of Jamal Smith and various other small time criminals and drug dealers. He had no picture of Curtis Lyons. At a picture of a young black man in an army uniform her voice had gotten panicky. “No. No. I never see this one. He never came here. Ray did not use him.”
“He is a known associate of Curtis Lyons.” Al’s heart pounded. He kept his voice calm. “Ms. Villareal, we have reason to think this man, Russell...this man might have been a client. Do you remember ever hearing anything about a Russell Simpson?”
She looked up at him fearfully. “Simpson is your name.” She pushed at the photos splayed on the coffee table, “I never heard of him.” She got up and lit a cigarette. Her hands shook. He knew. He knew! Russell had died overdosing on smack that had been sold to him by one of Ray’s lackies. Maybe Lyons himself. Rosalie Villareal looked at him with animosity born of terror. She’d known right away that he would not be susceptible to her wiles. The big man looked like he could snap her in two. She needed to talk to Bull. She wasn’t going to do time. She’d had nothing to do with the Simpson guy’s death. Ray had shrugged it off. Russell Simpson’s dad was no longer CPD and he was just another dead junkie, he’d laughed. He didn’t OD the guy. Russell should’ve been more careful.
“Look, I loved Ray. His business not nothing to do with me.” She inhaled resentfully.
“What about Bull? Did he move in after Ray or was he in it all along?” Al kept his calm but he knew he would kill whoever had been the cause of Russell’s death. Since he couldn’t kill Russell.
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