My hands were shaking, the adrenaline rush leaving me weak. Someone else had beaten me to breaking into Bobby's trailer. That left me feeling mixed emotions. On the one hand, it almost confirmed I was right—Bobby had kept something incriminating in his trailer that pointed to his killer. On the other, I'd likely met that killer face to face tonight. That thought sent a whole new round of heebie-jeebies shimmying through me.
Should I call the police? I quickly dismissed that idea. I wasn't keen on the idea of explaining how I'd lied my way into the studio with intentions of stealing a deceased man's personal effects. Besides, the guard in the cart who'd distracted my attacker had probably already realized the trailer was broken into.
I grabbed my phone and dialed Felix instead.
He answered on the third ring. "Allie?"
"Felix, there was a break-in," I said in a rush.
"What? Where?" I heard rustling, as if he was getting up from somewhere comfortable like a bed or couch. Both sounded like heaven to me right now.
"At the studio where Bobby Tells All is filmed. He…someone broke into Bobby's trailer and attacked me on the way out."
"What?!" I heard more rustling and a door slam. "Are you all right?"
I nodded at my empty car. "Yes." Mostly.
"Did you call the police?" he asked, and I heard the worry in his voice.
"I, um, sort of can't," I hedged.
He let out a deep sigh. "Do I want to know?"
"No."
"Text me your location. I'll be right there." Then he hung up.
CHAPTER TEN
I doubled back to the studios and parked in an empty space at the curb across the street from the main entrance. Twenty minutes later Felix's old junker of a car pulled up behind me, and a second after that, a big black SUV stopped behind him. I raised an eyebrow. He'd brought friends?
I got out of my car and greeted Felix on the sidewalk. My head still ached, and my calf throbbed as I put pressure on it.
Felix took one look at me and pulled me into a bear hug. I didn't resist. In fact, I had to fight the urge to cry into his big, warm shoulder that was probably the most comforting thing I'd ever experienced. Or at least it felt like it in that moment.
Finally he pulled back, giving me a visual once-over. "Let me see that leg." He knelt down. "It doesn't need stitches, but it's still pretty deep. You're filthy," he said with confusion as he stood back up.
I looked down at myself and cringed. I was covered with potting soil and dirt from the broken flowerpots, plus some greasy stains from the ground outside the studio that I didn't want to try to identify. "It's a long story," I said.
"I've got a first-aid kit in the SUV. I'll grab it," a second voice said.
I looked behind Felix and spotted Calvin Dean. Cal was a private bodyguard that Felix sometimes employed when things got a little hairy at the tabloid. Most celebs had a love-hate relationship with our paper, but once in a while one of them would get threatening, and it was nice peace of mind to know Cal was around. There was a rumor he was seeing Tina, but I didn't hold that against him.
"I'm fine. Really," I protested in vain as Cal jogged back to the SUV.
When Felix and I were alone again, he gave me a hard stare. "Want to tell me what happened?"
"Do I have a choice?" I asked, suddenly feeling very foolish.
"Nope," Felix said.
I sighed as Cal came back with the first-aid kit. Reluctantly, I told them all about my brilliant (insert sarcasm) plan to break into Bobby's trailer and how the bad guy with the tattoo had thwarted that plan.
When I was finished, Cal had neatly bandaged up my leg, and Felix was running his hands through his hair in a frustrated gesture until it stood on end.
"What were you thinking?" he asked. "You could have been killed."
"I was thinking there's a reason Bobby was killed, and I want to find out what it is. You know, so you have something to print."
"Don't you dare put this on me, Quick," Felix said, pointing a finger my way.
He was right. That was kind of childish. But I didn't like the accusation in his tone. Maybe it hadn't been my best plan ever, but it wasn't my fault some goon had had the same idea.
"What do you think Bobby had in his trailer?" Cal asked, his demeanor much more calm, almost Zen-like. Then again, I guessed he was used to situations like this.
I shrugged. "His wife said he kept a laptop there. I was hoping to get a look at his notes."
Felix and Cal exchanged a look. Then Cal asked, "Did the guy who attacked you take it?"
"I…" I paused, thinking back. It had been dark. I'd barely been able to make out the shape of the man. "I don't know. It was dark. I did see a tattoo on his wrist that went up the back of his forearm. It was a snake wrapped around a dead tree."
Cal looked across the street at the studio gates. "You said you thought a security guard was already on the scene?"
I nodded. "He spooked the guy with the tattoo off of me."
Felix's jaw seemed to clench a little tighter.
"Well, I guess we could go find out if the laptop is still there," Cal suggested.
I let out a bark of laughter. "Yeah, like the guard is just going to let us saunter in and check."
Cal grinned. "Who's on duty at the shack tonight?" he asked, gesturing to the guardhouse.
"A guy named Alfredo," I answered.
He nodded, smiled, and then stepped off the curb and jogged across the street.
I sent a questioning look to Felix. He shrugged.
We quickly crossed the street to follow Cal and caught up to him just in time to hear the tail end of a conversation with Alfredo.
"…good to see you again too, man," the guard said.
"Hey, say hi to Mona for me, okay?" Cal told him as the security gates opened for us.
"Will do. You gotta come over soon. We'll barbeque."
"Consider it done," Cal said. Then he turned to us and winked before leading the way through the gates.
Felix and I quickly followed.
"Nice to see you again, Mrs. Baxter." Alfredo waved as we scuttled through.
"Mrs. Baxter?" Felix whispered to me.
"It's a long story," I mumbled. Then as a clever (or not-so-clever) conversation changer, I turned to Cal. "You know the guard?"
He nodded. "The security community is small," he said nonchalantly as we all hopped into a golf cart. "Alfredo and I did security together on the last Brad Pitt movie."
"You know Brad Pitt?" I had to admit, I was impressed.
"We're like that." Cal held up two intertwined fingers.
"Where's the Bobby Tells All soundstage?" Felix asked. He looked less impressed with Cal's celeb friends than I was.
"To the left," I directed. "28B."
Felix made a left then slowed to a halt a few paces down from Bobby's studio. Three other golf carts were already parked in front of 28B, security guards standing near them. They'd discovered the break-in alright.
"Wait here," Cal told us. "I'll see what I can find out."
That was fine by me. I had no interest in being anywhere near Bobby's trailer again. Just being on the lot again was spooking me more than I liked to admit.
From where we sat, I could just make out Bobby's trailer through the now open warehouse doors. The lights were on inside, and I could see silhouettes of security through the windows. A potted palm lay on its side, the pot shattered and dirt scattered along the ground. I shuddered and tried not to think of my aching calf.
We watched Cal approach one of the security guards standing on the steps of the trailer. They did a complicated handshake that clearly said Cal knew this guy too.
"Glad I brought him along," Felix said beside me.
I nodded. "Thanks for coming."
"Where else would I be?"
I turned to look at him. "I don't know. But you've been awfully busy lately," I said, the word coming out more accusatory than I'd hoped.
Felix raised an eyebrow at me. "
I do believe you were the one who was busy tonight." He waved his hand toward the trailer.
Touché.
I was saved from responding by Cal jogging back toward us.
"Well?" I asked. "Did they find the guy?"
He shook his head. "Unfortunately, no one got a look at the perp." He paused. "Except you, that is."
Gee, lucky me. "And the laptop?" I asked.
"Gone."
I felt my heart sink.
"Sorry," Cal said. "Jameson, that's the head of night security there," he continued, pointing out the man he'd been chatting with on the steps. "He said the back room looked like it had been ransacked. Papers tossed, cupboards ripped open, the whole deal."
"Was anything else taken?" Felix jumped in.
Cal shrugged. "Too early to tell. Jameson said he'd have to get an inventory of what Bobby usually kept in there. But he said the place was cleaned out of any electronic equipment."
"So all of Bobby's notes are gone," I said, feeling the weight of the night suddenly settle on me. I fought hard not to tear up as my head started to pound again.
"Sorry, kid," Cal said, sending a sympathetic look my way.
"Come on. Let's get you home," Felix said, eyeing the bandage on my leg.
I looked down and noticed blood starting to stain the bandage. While I hated leaving empty-handed, there wasn't anything more to find out here anyway. And my head was killing me. I nodded docilely and got back into the golf cart.
We left the studio, and Felix helped me into my car. "Are you sure you'll be all right? Do you want me to drive you home?" he asked through the driver side window.
I bit my lip. I desperately wanted to say yes. After nearly being killed, the comfort of being in Felix's arms sounded like heaven. But while I wasn't sure I was totally alright, pride was stronger. The last thing I wanted was a pity overnight.
I shook my head. "I'm fine."
He didn't look convinced. "Let me at least follow you home. Make sure you get in alright."
"It's late. It's been a long day, and I'm a big girl. I can manage to get home," I told him. I halfway wished I'd shut up and just accept his offer.
He sighed. "If you're sure?"
No. "Yes."
"Okay, I guess I'll see you at the office in the morning."
"Yep!" I said with way more fake perk than the situation called for.
A soon as he stepped back, I hit the gas before I could change my mind. I looked in the rearview mirror. Felix was watching me. I turned the corner and pressed down on the accelerator.
When I got home, I tossed my trashed shoes into the corner, fed Mr. Fluffykins, and trudged to the shower, dropping my filthy clothing in the hallway along the way. The hot water rolled over me. I watched the dirt and grime slide off my body and swirl down the drain. I wished my uncertainty about Felix would wash down the drain along with the stench of the day. If the only way Felix wanted to come up to my place was for a pity party, it was clear he and I were going nowhere and fast.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I woke up feeling like an extra from The Walking Dead. The red numbers on my bedside clock read six a.m.
My brain ached like I'd gone twelve rounds with Mike Tyson, and I fought against the urge to pull the blanket over my head and go back to sleep. Mr. Fluffykins made the decision for me. I blinked my eyes open against the pale sunlight streaming in through my bedroom window and groaned. Mr. Fluffykins was standing on my chest, staring at me.
"I supposed you're hungry?" I murmured. My mouth felt like I'd swallowed an entire field of cotton.
He meowed and started kneading my chest with his claws, and I jolted upright. He jumped off the bed and trotted toward the kitchen.
I slung my legs over the side of the bed. My head throbbed, and my calf ached. I reached up and felt the lump on the back of my head. It was smaller but still hurt like heck. Then I checked the bandage on my calf. The cut had stopped bleeding at least. I went into the bathroom and redressed the wound and brushed my teeth.
Afterward, I fed my kitty then dressed and put myself together for the day. Dressing up always made me feel better, so I chose one of my favorite black A-line skirts, a hot pink wrap top, and a pair of hot pink matching heels. My legs had always been my best asset, and I was damned if I was gonna cover them up just because some creep had attacked me.
I added a little flair with some silver bangles, matching hoop earrings, and an oversized pink bag. I went light on the makeup and piled my blonde hair on top of my head in a somewhat messy bun, then wrapped a hot pink silk wrap around the base of the bun and tied it in a cute little bow.
I checked out my reflection in the full-length mirror in the bedroom corner. The bandage on my leg stuck out like a sore thumb, but the rest of the outfit looked great, so I could ignore it. Plus, I was already feeling much better.
I wasn't particularly ready to face Felix, but I had a job to do, so I locked up the apartment and drove to the Informer.
As soon as I stepped off of the elevator, I spotted another bouquet of flowers sitting on the corner of my desk. They were hard to miss, as this time there was a bundle of at least a dozen balloons attached to them. I felt myself blush. They had to be from Shane.
I chanced a glance at Felix's office. He was on the phone, but he was staring right at me. His expression was dark and unreadable again. But I could tell for sure it wasn't a very cheery one.
I felt a little bit bad. Felix had interrupted his evening to come rescue me the night before. I took a step toward his office to explain. But before I got any farther, he quickly swiveled his chair so his back was turned on me. Ouch. Cold shoulder much?
Fine. Let him stew in his jealousy for a bit. Maybe a little jealousy would be good for him and in the long run, us…if there even still was an us.
I made my way to my desk and pulled the card out of the flowers. Sure enough, they were from Shane.
I stuck the card back into the bouquet, took a seat, and powered up my computer.
"Secret admirer?"
I looked up to see Tina leaning back in her chair to peek out of her cubicle, her feet on her desk, her black and purple hair hanging down her back, one eyebrow raised at me.
"Something like that," I answered cautiously.
"He's kinda cute. Your new boyfriend." She grinned, showing off a wide row of white teeth.
"Ha. Ha. Very funny, Bender. But I'm not dating a teenager."
"I heard about what happened last night at the studio." This time the grin disappeared, and she looked almost earnest. "Scary stuff. You okay?"
"Yeah. Thanks." Okay, so maybe Tina wasn't all bad all the time.
"Cal said the guy took Bobby's laptop?"
I nodded.
"Any idea what was on it?"
"Not really," I hedged.
"Bummer." She plopped her feet back on the floor. "Well, I'm glad you're okay," she said, ending the conversation as she scooted back into her own cube.
That made two of us. I had spent the night trying to block the attack out of my head as I'd tossed and turned, but now in the bright, safe space of the newsroom, I tried to focus on the details. Clearly whoever had attacked me was after something incriminating in Bobby's office. I couldn't be 100 percent sure it was Bobby's killer, but it was a good bet. I mentally went down my list of suspects.
The wife was immediately out. The person who had attacked me was definitely male. That much I had been able to make out in the dark. Henry maybe? I'd had the impression the guy was bigger than Henry's frame, but that could have been fear taking over. I tried to remember if I'd seen Henry in short sleeves.
I picked up my phone and dialed Henry's number. Straight to voicemail again. I left another one asking him to call me, but I was starting to think that was a lost cause.
I looked at the next name on my list. Someone at Sunshine Sanitation. And "someone" was about as vague as you could get. There had to be hundreds of people employed by the sanitation company.
If I went along w
ith the idea that Bobby was going to expose the company in some big negative way, then he had to have had someone on the inside to feed him that information. A mole. Maybe the guy with the tattoo. Had he been feeding Bobby inside info? But then, why kill Bobby before he could expose it?
And then there was Ritchie Mullins. His size certainly fit the guy who'd attacked me. Had Ritchie had a tattoo? Hard to tell. He'd been wearing long sleeves when I'd seen him at the gym. I thought back to the video of the assault. He'd been in long sleeves then too. Considering the weather report was calling for the upper eighties today, I grabbed my purse and headed for the elevator.
Half an hour later I parked across the street from the Oceanside Gym. I made my way inside with a longing glance at the coffeehouse, and found a different person on duty at the desk, this time a petite brunette.
"Can I help you?" she asked
"I was wondering if Ritchie is working today?" I asked, glancing past her at the already busy gym full of ellipticals and weight machines.
"He is, but he's not in yet." She glanced at the clock. "His first client isn't until 10:30, so he probably won't be in for another twenty minutes. Did you want to wait?"
"Uh, maybe I'll grab a coffee and come back," I told her, my internal caffeine addict not minding a short wait.
I thanked her and left, heading back across the street to the café. The air from the ceiling fans blew down on me and cooled my sun-heated skin as soon as I entered. I ordered an iced caramel macchiato and took a seat by the window.
I sipped and played a couple rounds of Candy Crush on my phone before I finally spotted Ritchie Mullins. He parked a shiny new mustang a few doors down from the gym, then exited…wearing a tank top.
Bingo.
I quickly tossed my cup in the trash and jogged across the street, entering the gym just a few paces behind Ritchie.
"Ritchie Mullins," I said, catching up to him at the reception desk.
He turned from flirting with the brunette, and his smile faded immediately at the sight of me. "You again. The reporter."
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