And now, Christmas. His parents lived in Sacramento and he was going home for two days next week. What had she thought, that he’d give up his family for her? Of course not. He hadn’t seen them since moving to Orange County four months ago. Or maybe she’d thought that he might invite her to join him. She didn’t know that she would have gone—Christmas with Alex’s parents would be weird. She and her ex-fiancé Matt had already been living together by the time she met his mom.
But an invitation would have been nice. She and Alex had been seeing each other for three and a half months. For Scarlet, that was longer than anyone since Matt. That had been a two year commitment, but both before and after him, no one had lasted longer than a few weeks.
That made Alex the second longest relationship of her life. And she didn’t know what she’d done or said that had pushed him away. She was difficult, she could be cranky, and she was putting in long hours investigating the Vartarian clan. But she always found time for him. She wanted to see him.
Maybe it was nothing she’d done. Maybe it was him. Maybe he woke up Thanksgiving morning and looked at her and realized he didn’t want her.
Krista was right—this had started at Thanksgiving. Alex had planned to come to Scarlet’s dad’s house for dinner. He’d cancelled. Shift change, he’d said. But Alex didn’t have to take anyone’s shift. He could have done something different.
But it wasn’t even that. Scarlet had been a cop, and she knew single cops got tagged for holidays more than married cops. It was fine—cops should be with their families when they had them. But Alex hadn’t looked her in the eye. He’d avoided her, and she’d known that he was lying. Maybe not about the shift change, but about something.
Scarlet had never cared much when a relationship ended. Sure, it stung sometimes, but it was life, right? Even Matt hadn’t been as big of a deal as she’d thought. It had been rather easy to walk away from him when he told her that he didn’t believe she and Krista had been set up in an ambush. She couldn’t marry anyone who didn’t have faith in her.
In fact, she was more upset about the prospect of never seeing Alex again than she had been when she walked out on her two-year relationship with Matt.
Get over it, Moreno.
She had more pride than this. Next time she saw Alex, she’d flat out ask him what was going on. If he was going to split with her, he would damn well tell her, and not do this wishy-washy pulling away thing. She wasn’t going to beg him to be with her. She had more self-respect than that. And if he thought he could just slip away undetected, she’d make damn sure he knew what a wimp he was. She liked him a lot, but if he didn’t want to spend time with her, she’d live. And that’s exactly what she would say to him.
Resolved, she thought she would feel better. But she only felt worse.
Scarlet walked up to the reception desk. Mr. Oliver was still there and he still had a stick up his ass. “The bell hop took our bags. They didn’t make it upstairs. Where can I get them?”
He looked down his arrogant eagle nose. She wanted to break it.
Without a word, he tapped twice on the bell in front of him.
A minute later, the bell hop who’d originally taken their bags popped into view. His name tag read Vince.
Before Mr. Oliver could speak, she said, “Hey, Vince, my bags?”
He looked confused. “Yeah—sorry, Ms. Moreno—I had a room service call and put them in the storage room. I’ll get them right away.”
Vince left and Scarlet wrinkled her nose at Mr. Oliver then crossed the lobby toward the bar. She wanted a beer. But if she had to play babysitting duty with Airhead Adam, she couldn’t drink.
Tonight. She’d make Krista stay sober so she could have a couple beers. Though after this weekend, her best friend was going to need something a lot stronger than a beer.
Dave, Adam’s manager or agent or whatever Adam had called him, walked briskly through the lobby without a glance in her direction. Sure, she was standing discreetly behind a potted tree near the registration desk, but Dave was definitely a man with a purpose. He went to the bar and looked around.
Was he waiting for someone? He didn’t seem happy. Not so much angry as worried.
She took a photo of him with her cell phone and then walked around the plant to get a better angle of the room.
Dave looked at his watch and then pulled out his phone and texted someone. He stared at the phone as if willing the person to respond. A moment later, he jammed it back into his pocket. Either he’d had a response he didn’t like or no response at all.
Then he crossed the bar back toward the lobby, and Scarlet shifted again so he wouldn’t see her. She had out her phone and pretended to be reading something, just in case he looked her way.
“What’s going on, Tiff?” Dave asked.
Scarlet looked up. Dave was standing face to face with the one-line actress Tiffany from Adam’s room. She had on jeans and a T-shirt that fell off her shoulder. It looked good on the buxom blonde, but Scarlet hated the style.
Scarlet couldn’t hear what Tiffany said, and they moved back toward the bar and sat down at a table in the far corner—even though there were only a few people sitting around the space.
Dave had made no indication upstairs that he knew Tiffany, but they had their heads together and were touching. Almost touching.
Were they involved? If they were, why hadn’t they greeted each other upstairs? Dave seemed to be angry about something, his hands moving all over and a frown creasing his forehead, but Tiffany didn’t appear scared. She was talking emphatically, also using her hands a lot.
The main doors opened and a rush of cold air blew in with a group of four women. They were clad in ski gear, sans skis, and shook off their jackets and hats. Every one of them had long blond hair.
Scarlet wrinkled her nose. How much time did it take to straighten all that hair? She much preferred her short, wash and towel-dry style.
“Tiff!” one of the women exclaimed. “Where were you?”
Tiffany looked like a five year old with her hand caught in the cookie jar.
The group walked into the bar, completely ignoring Dave.
Scarlet couldn’t hear anything they said, but the expression on Tiffany’s face was both embarrassment and indignation. Was that even possible?
Then suddenly she jumped up and hugged the tallest of the blondes. The five of them giggled—yes, giggled—and ran out of the bar and up the wide staircase at the opposite end of the lobby.
Dave looked like he’d been run over by a train.
Vince approached with Scarlet’s luggage. “Where would you like your bags, Ms. Moreno?”
“Adam Brock’s suite,” she said. “But leave my skis and duffle bag right here—we’re going out in a few.”
“Certainly,” he said.
Scarlet made a beeline to where Dave still sat and plopped down in the chair Tiffany had just vacated. “What’s going on?” she asked.
He blinked and stared at her. “What?”
“It’s not a hard question. You didn’t make goo-goo eyes at Tiffany upstairs, why are you keeping your relationship a secret?”
He blushed. Blushed. “We don’t have a relationship. And it’s none of your business.”
“Everything about Adam Brock’s life is my business. He hired us.”
“And he can fire you, too.”
“Fine by me, he already paid us. I’ll tell him you refused to cooperate.”
He glared at her. “Tiffany is a client of mine.”
“Who just happens to be at this teeny-tiny resort the same weekend as you and Adam. Huh. What a coincidence!”
“I knew she was going to be here, but I didn’t know that Adam knew her. She was an extra on a film he was in. I signed her last year and have been trying to get her some meatier roles, but she doesn’t say no.”
“Really.”
He blushed a deeper red. “That’s not what I meant!”
What was with him? Weren’t these Holly
wood types supposed to have a thick skin and low morals?
“What do you know about the note Adam got and the champagne?” Scarlet asked.
“It’s nothing, I’m sure.”
“How do you know it’s nothing?” Scarlet mentally ran through some of the celebrity cases she’d had as a cop in L.A. “Was this some sort of stunt? Did Adam hire Krista for a publicity stunt?”
Dave’s eyes widened. “No! I told him not to hire anyone.”
Krista would absolutely flip if Adam used her to advance his career or get press. But why would he?
“If someone is stalking him, why shouldn’t he hire a P.I. to investigate?”
Dave sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Look, I didn’t see the note, and just because his girlfriend got sick on champagne doesn’t mean squat. That’s what I meant about this being much ado about nothing. Adam just came back last week from a shoot overseas. He’s been edgy and has insomnia and I thought a long weekend skiing would help him get back into his groove. He has an audition right after New Year’s for a role in a buddy cop movie with Laurence Fishburn. Do you know what that would do for his career, especially after Moon Drop launches next summer? Adam doesn’t plan. He doesn’t think about the future. That’s what I do. I think about his future.” Dave paused. “Adam’s a nice guy. He trusts everyone. Is your partner here because she really wants to help him, or does she think she can rekindle their affair? Because right now, a serious relationship could distract him.”
Scarlet stared at Dave for a second, and then burst out in laughter. The thought—Krista—Adam—she tried to stop laughing and almost choked.
Dave frowned. “It’s not funny. Girls follow him around all the time. He doesn’t know how to say no.”
“What?” She swallowed the laughter. “He cheated on Krista and he doesn’t know how to say no? What kind of bullshit line is that?”
“It’s not a line. I didn’t know Adam back then, but he’s never been exclusive.”
“They were married. Exclusivity is part of the fucking marriage agreement.”
Dave looked apoplectic. “Married? Adam has never been married.”
“He was, for about five minutes,” Scarlet said, stealing Krista’s line. “They met in college.”
“Santa Cruz,” Dave said as if just making the connection.
“Listen to me carefully, Dave,” Scarlet said in her best no-nonsense cop voice. “If Adam is fucking with us, I will personally roast his chestnuts over a fire. If he’s not, and someone is really trying to hurt him, you’d damn well better let Krista and me do our job. Understand?”
Dave nodded. But he wasn’t looking at her. Terrific. He was a million miles away. She snapped her fingers in his face.
He jumped and his chair scooted back two inches. “Yeah! I understand! You’re sure Krista doesn’t want to, you know, get back together now that Adam is successful? Because when he was at Santa Cruz he was just starting out. Had some real shitty roles.”
“If you even breathe that possibility to Krista, she will take you down. Hard. She’s a black belt in Tae Kwon Do.”
“No shit?”
“No shit.” Scarlet stood, then leaned over and put her hands on the table, getting in his face. “If you can think of anyone who hates Adam so much that they would stalk him and deliver tainted champagne, let me know. Ex-girlfriend, rival, obsessed fan—I don’t care how wild an idea, I need to know.”
“Okay. I promise.”
She didn’t believe him. He was thinking—and she had no idea what he was thinking about. That pissed her off.
“Are you skiing today?”
He shook his head. “I have work to do.”
She didn’t believe that either.
#
While Scarlet changed into her ski clothes, she told Krista what she’d seen and heard. “Dave is hiding something,” Scarlet concluded. “I don’t like him. I don’t trust him.”
“Dave McMasters,” Krista said. “And Trina Warren. I already talked to Mac, and he’s doing a background on each of them.”
“Learn anything else from your ex?”
“Don’t call him that,” Krista snapped. She rubbed her temples and said something Scarlet couldn’t quite make out, but she distinctly heard the word horny in there somewhere. “I didn’t get anything useful. Dave’s been around for more than two years. He’s the one who landed Adam the Moon Drop gig. Trina’s been around for six months. He hired her in the middle of Moon Drop. Acting coach.” She rolled her eyes. “She’s going skiing with you.”
“Oh, joy,” Scarlet said.
“Adam is good on skis—and he has no fear.”
“I won’t let him out of my sight.”
Scarlet’s cell phone rang. “It’s John,” she said and answered. “Hey, little brother.”
She could practically hear his eyes roll in the moment of silence. “You asked me to call.”
“I need a favor.”
“Of course you do.”
“Krista and I are working a case for …” she almost said her ex but Krista shot her a nasty glare, “… a guy who thinks he’s being stalked. An actor named Adam Brock.”
“Brock? Haven’t heard of him.”
“He’s in a big movie that comes out next summer. Break-out film or whatever. So he thought someone was following him, then got an anonymous note that said I know where you live, then a champagne bottle showed up and made his girlfriend sick. He gave us permission to go in his apartment in Redondo Beach, but we’re watching his ass out here on Bear Mountain.”
“You’re skiing? And want me to do your grunt work?”
“Trust me, I’d swap with you at this point—this guy is unbelievable. He said he called the police after he got the note, but they couldn’t do anything about it.”
“I’ll look into it. I can’t check his apartment until my shift is over.”
“No problem. The key is under the mat.”
“You’re shitting me.”
“Nope.”
“What do you want out of his apartment?”
“The champagne bottle is in the trash, and Mac will take it to the lab we use in Orange County. Adam doesn’t remember where he put the note, but that could be in the trash as well. And if you see anything weird—you know.”
“I know what to look for. Text me his address.”
“You’re a peach, John.”
“You owe me.”
“Bullshit I owe you. I gave you my Angels tickets so you could take Jennifer to the game. The Angels. And they won. And just last week you had me run down one of your informants and you didn’t pay me—I get paid for this stuff now, you know?”
“Okay, okay, don’t have a coronary.” He hung up.
Scarlet stared at the phone. “Something’s up.”
Krista blinked. “What? You do a lot for John.”
“Yeah—but he should have come back with what he’s done for me lately. Like fixing my car when the fucking mechanic wanted to charge me $1500. It’s a game we play. He feels guilty about something.”
“I will never understand your relationship with your brother,” Krista said, “but he would do anything for you.”
He would and vice versa. But Scarlet was thirty-four years old. John was her younger brother by two years. She knew him better than anyone in the world, and something was definitely up.
“Everyone is acting weird,” she mumbled.
“Krista!” a voice called from the living room. “Krista, where are you?”
“Oh, God, it’s Adam. You’d think I was his dog the way he calls for me.”
Scarlet looked at her watch. “It’s nearly twelve. Did you ask Mac to run Tiffany too? She gave me a weird vibe. Though it might have been her boobs. They cannot possibly be real.”
“Mac’s on it. She gave me the same vibe.”
“Do you know the entire wedding party is blond? Not just blond, but with the exact same hairstyle. Long and straight. It was creepy.”
They walked out to t
he living room and Adam stood there with Trina all decked out in designer ski clothes. Scarlet felt woefully inadequate in her old blue-and-green jacket that reminded her of the Seattle Seahawks and non-matching black ski pants.
Trina gave her that look but Adam seemed oblivious. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” he pleaded with Krista.
“I’m not here to have fun,” Krista said. “I’m here to work. Scarlet is a better skier than I am anyway, so she’s going with you. It’s not up for discussion.”
Adam pouted. Actually pouted. Krista intentionally ignored him and caught Scarlet’s eye. She didn’t have to say a word, Scarlet knew exactly what she was thinking.
Get him out of here before I lose it.
Scarlet turned to Adam. “Here are the rules. They are not up for discussion, either. One, you do not attempt to lose me. Two, you do exactly what I say without argument. Got it?”
Adam looked confused, and Trina looked like she wanted to argue. Scarlet turned her back on them and strode across the foyer to jab the elevator button. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Three
Krista waited until she heard the elevator door close before she fell prostrate on the couch.
What have you gotten yourself into?
She knew exactly why she’d fallen for Adam. First, he was hot. He knew he was good looking, but he wasn’t conceited about it. They’d met on the beach one weekend during Krista’s senior year in college. Adam had said he was a student, too, but didn’t mention that he was on academic probation. At the time, Krista had been really into the surfing scene. She’d taken up the sport as a freshman, and she was a natural—as good as Adam and that was saying something. They’d hit it off. Krista had known immediately that he was a bit of an airhead, but he was sweet. Like a little boy. Always wanting to please, always happy.
It had been lust at first sight. Krista had dated so many arrogant, selfish jerks or lazy losers, and Adam was completely different. Unfortunately, he wanted to please everyone, including every woman who walked within his line of sight. Krista still had no idea why he’d proposed or why she’d said yes.
Frosted (Moreno & Hart Mysteries) Page 3