The Set Piece

by Catherine Lane

  “I thought you’d gotten lost,” Diego said when she finally returned to the apartment.

  “In this house that’s a real possibility,” she said, marveling at how cheerful she sounded. “I couldn’t find my purse. Turns out I left it in the car.”

  Her lies flowed like wine from a bottle. Amy wondered why she didn’t come clean about Casey and her affection for Diego. He had, after all, asked her to check up on his P.A. and her happiness. But Amy was out of the habit of telling the truth, especially when the truth would humiliate Casey.

  “What are you watching?” she asked.

  Diego had turned on the TV and was now sprawled over her sofa completely at home.

  “Sports Center,” he said. “Do you mind? I thought it would be better if Tammy thought we were having a long goodbye. Did you see her down there?”

  “No. Not Tammy.”

  On the TV an outfielder made a fantastic diving catch. “Ooh. Did you see that?” Diego said.

  “I did.” She stood up a little straighter and squared her shoulders. She had a job to do after all. “Hey, today at the party Emily gave Stephanie a really beautiful photo book of her and Brandon and all the players. There was one of you and them at the stadium.”

  “She did?”

  “Yeah. How did Emily get it?”

  “Get what?” Diego’s stare was glued to the TV and the top ten plays of the day.

  “The photo. Did she ask you?”

  “What photo? Now that’s a ball I would’ve liked to put in the back of the net.”

  The TV ran the goal in slow motion. A woman soccer player dressed in the white of Team USA threw her body up into the air. The ball rocketed into the back of the net with her scissor kick.

  “The woman’s game has really elevated. It’s the play of the day,” he said.

  That woman could have been Casey if things had worked out differently. Amy rubbed her forehead.

  “You have a headache?”

  “No. No, I’m fine.” She pushed her hand through her hair and tried again. “Stephanie said you took the picture with a timer on your camera. Right after the Seattle game? Brandon gave you an assist. No, I think it was two assists.”

  “Oh, that one. Yeah, I took it.”

  Amy imagined leaping over the couch and slamming the TV off. What was it about men and TV? She had seen it numb the brains of almost every man in the Valley Arms for years.

  “But how did Emily get it?”

  “Oh, that’s a Casey question. You can ask her in the morning. She’ll know.”

  Diego had shoved her right back in Casey’s path. Karma was a bitch.

  CHAPTER 8

  “I e-mailed Emily the picture last month.” Casey sat behind her desk, impatience rolling off her. “You couldn’t text me these questions?” Her unyielding gaze bored a hole into Amy’s forehead.

  Amy kept her feet planted on the floor, refusing to move an inch. Diego had been chauffeured out of town earlier that morning, so she was on her own in this lion’s den.

  “Well, I could’ve, but I kinda wanted the SD card if you had it.”

  “Why?”

  The vulnerable woman from last night had totally vanished. Instead someone made of steel sat before her. Had their meeting in the kitchen done that to her?

  “It’s a…present for Diego.” She grimaced slightly over the lie. Not one of her better ones.

  “What is? The SD card?”

  “No.” Casey’s relentless questions were beginning to make her feel hunted. “I need the pictures and any others if you have them. I want to do a little collage for Diego.” That was better.

  “A collage?”

  “Yeah. Of him and me and soccer. I’m crafty that way.” Although at the moment she didn’t feel at all crafty.

  “Okay” Casey picked up a pen and began to tap it on a pad of paper. “I’ll need to get Diego’s permission first.”

  “Really?” Alarm bells rang in her head. “Why?”

  “Because they’re his pictures.”

  Amy tilted her head in thought. She was awfully protective of this SD card. Did Casey have any part in the photoshopped deliveries that showed up at Horowitz’s office?

  “But mostly because I work for him, not you,” Casey continued.

  There it was. She had nothing to do with the doctored photos; Casey was still pissed about last night. Amy didn’t blame her. In fact, she had hesitated walking into the office this morning full of orders and rubbing salt in Casey’s wounds from the night before. But now that Casey had thrown down the gauntlet Amy found she was ready for a fight.

  “Okay. Text him,” she said

  “I will, and I’ll let you know.”

  Amy plopped down on the leather sofa. “I can wait.”

  “You’re kidding?” The annoyance in Casey’s voice only made Amy settle in deeper.

  “Nope.” Amy crossed her legs and lifted a magazine. She had grabbed a soccer equipment catalogue. Great, this will pass the time, yawner. With Casey’s gaze still on her she studied the different sizes of work-out cones on page three as if they held the secret to the universe. A deep sigh came from the other side of the room followed by the sounds of Casey texting.

  Amy formed a silent plea for a speedy reply. Diego had to be close to getting on the plane. She could be here for hours with this ridiculous stand, and the catalogue only had fifty pages.

  Page thirty-five was a bonanza. Polyester mesh pull-over pinnies on one side, double-sided numbered vests on the other. Not about to lose this contest, she mentally began to compile a list of pros and cons. Amy finally heard the beep of Casey’s phone.

  Please, please, let it be Diego. She raised her gaze, twisting her face into a picture of indifference.

  “Well?” she asked. “Is it Diego?”

  “Yes.”

  “And?”

  “He says that’s fine.”

  “Perfect.” Amy closed the catalogue. Casey, as if making a point, got up slowly, pulled a white binder from the bookshelf and slid an SD card from a protective pocket inside.

  “Thanks.” Amy held out her open palm.

  “You’re welcome.” Casey dropped the SD card into her hand from two inches up. No fingers touching. No electric sparks. No whooshing in her chest. What a difference a day made.

  “Anything else I can help you with?”

  “No. Thank you for this.” She squeezed the SD card tighter than she meant to.

  “No problem.” Casey turned her back on Amy.

  The realization that she had no way to view the card hit her as soon as she was halfway across the flagstones. She laughed at her own stupidity. There was no way she was turning around, so she walked straight into the kitchen where Tammy sat at the huge oak table sipping something frothy out of a coffee mug and doing a sudoku puzzle in the paper.

  “Morning, Tammy.” Amy effused all the cheer she could muster into her voice.

  “Morning.” Tammy hunkered down in her chair. She wasn’t moving.

  “I would like to look at this SD card. Where’s Diego’s computer?” She leveled a stare at the woman at the table.

  “In his office.” Of course it was! But Tammy’s tone made her feel extra stupid.

  Amy, who had already had her fill of challenging women that morning, waltzed out of the kitchen before Tammy could start up.

  A brand new iMac and huge monitor greeted her as soon as Amy turned into the office. Amy dropped into the chair behind the desk and pushed the “on” button. The system sprang to life, only to immediately ask her for the password.

  Amy rubbed her forehead. “What would Diego use?” she wondered out loud. A deep sigh followed. “His mother? The Atoms? Soccer?”

  Amy smiled and typed in Dulce’s name. The password was refused. Amy tapped the desk with her finger for a mom
ent and then typed in Dulce with the number 10, Diego’s jersey number, after it.

  An almost blank desktop opened on to the screen. Cracking the password had been laughably easy. The only part of this puzzle that was. She tried not to look at the files; she was a practiced liar, but not a snoop. From the empty screen, it seemed Diego almost never fired this baby up. She slid the SD card into the processor and the pictures on the card jumped up in iPhoto. She viewed Diego with his family at a party, a bunch of action shots from the Seattle game with his new camera, a few of Dulce. She scanned through every single picture and not one, with the exception of the threesome at the stadium, looked anything like the photos that she remembered from Knight’s envelope. So how had the blackmailer acquired the photos? There were other SD cards in that notebook, but unless Casey was the blackmailer, nothing made any sense.

  “Damn,” Amy said under her breath. She had entered the office with such hope. She leaned back in the chair, staring out into space. Everything was such a mess. Her easy solution to the mystery of the photographs shifted out of place like Tammy’s puzzle. Get one little number wrong and the whole block went off.

  In fact, everything was a mess. The relationship she had no interest in was perfect, while the non-relationship she obsessed over was a raging disaster. Every time she opened her mouth a lie came out, and Simon, the one person she would have confessed all her problems to, was still not talking to her.

  Knight, you’re wrong. This isn’t some lame ass fairy tale. This is a full-on horror story. Amy closed her eyes and rolled her head back into the headrest of the chair. Actually, if this really were a fairy tale, she would look up and the answer to all her problems would be in front of her. She just had to recognize it. That’s the way magic worked.

  She opened her eyes and saw a wide expanse of desktop that looked like it was hardly ever used. The leather desk pad had no notes or reminders, the rectangular pen holder was empty, and the flip calendar was four months out of date. Four photographs were grouped on the desk corner. They looked like they’d been placed for show and then forgotten. This was a fail.

  She was rolling around the conversation she would have with Knight in her head when one of the photo collection caught her eye. In the center of the group was a lovely picture of Diego in a bright teal T-shirt, bending down to kiss Abuelita on her cheek. She looked so happy, and Diego’s expression brimmed over with love for the old woman.

  “Son of a bitch!” She grabbed the photo. The answer had been right in front of her the whole time. This was another of Knight’s photoshopped forgeries.

  “Yes!” She pumped her fist and ran up the stairs to her apartment for her phone.

  You’re not going to believe this. I found some of the pictures! She texted Knight and added three of those grinning happy faces for good measure.

  Her cell phone rang immediately. “Don’t put it in writing.” Knight’s voice rumbled out from the phone.

  “Sorry, I didn’t realize this was black ops. Are we in blackout mode?”

  “Amy, this isn’t a joking matter. We need to be super careful. Everyone’s livelihood depends on solving this. Diego’s, yours, and mine, to mention a few.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “What did you find out?”

  “Well…” She drew out the word. She really liked, for once, having the upper hand with Knight. “I found the source of two of the pictures.”

  “Really?” His voice was incredulous.

  “Yes, really. Do you want to hear the info now? Or do you want me to tell you in your soundproof room?”

  “Funny. Just tell me now.”

  When she was finished silence greeted her.

  “Then it’s definitely someone with access to the house.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought. But who?” she said.

  “That’s the million-dollar question. Tammy, Tom, even Casey, their jobs depend on Diego. If his well runs dry, so does theirs. You haven’t noticed anything about them that we don’t already know, have you?”

  “No,” Amy said quickly. She wasn’t about to cheapen Casey’s feelings for Diego by announcing them to Knight.

  “Well, keep your eyes open,” Knight said, and sighed audibly. “You’re our only hope at the moment for getting to the bottom of this.”

  “That’s your best pep talk?”

  “Amy, look—”

  “Never mind. I’m on it, for better or worse.”

  For the first time since she walked through the front door of Diego’s house, Amy had true purpose in her step. Before she had passively slunk from room to room hoping not to run into Diego or Tammy. Now she marched through the house on a bizarre treasure hunt studying every picture she could find. The first one she uncovered hung on the wall right outside the gym. Diego held Dulce as a brand-new puppy Amy remembered a second handsome man in the doctored up version at the coffeehouse. She took out her cellphone to record her find. A little more searching and she found another sitting on the wet bar in the living room, Diego was getting out of the pool in the backyard during a family BBQ. Dripping wet, he wore a skimpy Speedo revealing his gorgeous muscular body.

  Amy pulled the photo off the bar for a closer look. This one almost didn’t need any doctoring to make its point, but Amy remembered the false version had a bunch of men around him, not his nieces and nephews. The mantel in the den was a bonanza. Three different photographs from the envelope; the beach, the boat, and the garden, all right there in open view.

  She raised her phone and took pictures of their positions on the mantel. She needed proof, but to move any of them would alert whoever was behind this.

  “What are you doing?” Amy flinched. Tammy’s harsh voice hit her from behind. Damn. How long had she been there standing at the kitchen door watching? Amy had been so focused she hadn’t bothered to watch her own back. Rookie mistake.

  She turned around trying to compose her expression. What had Tammy seen—but, more importantly, what did Tammy know? A picture of Diego in a compromising position hitting the internet would make it awfully hard for Amy to keep on living here. Surely that couldn’t be the motive, could it?

  Thinking fast she grabbed the picture of her and Diego at the park that was sitting right up front.

  “I’m looking at me and Diego,” she said, trying to infuse her words with a lightness that she really didn’t feel. She quickly brought the picture over to Tammy moving away from more incriminating photos and giving her time to slide her phone into her pocket. “Aren’t we a beautiful couple?”

  “Yes. I guess so.” Tammy took the picture from Amy’s outstretched hand and brushed tender fingers over Diego’s cheek. “Diego looks very handsome here.”

  “He always does.”

  Tammy met her gaze for a long moment. A warning that Amy couldn’t read flashed in her eyes. “I’ll put it back where it belongs.”

  “Thanks. We need more of me and Diego up there, don’t you think?”

  Tammy only grunted and dropped the picture in the back behind one of Diego and his mother.

  Amy walked into the local library, the place where she had always done her best thinking. She felt upbeat. Her eyes shone with determination; she had this mystery by the tail. She took a padded chair at the back and scrolled through the photo evidence on her phone. She’d located half a dozen in just an hour of searching. The others had to be there, too. It led to only one conclusion: the offender absolutely had to be someone with access to the house. But who? Someone in his family who was jealous, perhaps? His family dropped by all the time. There was plenty of opportunity. Or maybe it was someone who already lived there?

  Tammy? She had hated Amy from the moment she moved in, spying on her, throwing out snide little digs whenever she could. She’d been startled when she’d caught Amy by the photographs on the mantel. It could easily be her. She had access galore. Could Tammy have been prepar
ing the ground with the first pictures? Had she become worried when Amy arrived and moved up her blackmail plans with the heavy duty porno pictures?

  No. It was a stupid theory. It made no sense. Knight had hit the nail on the head when he’d said Tammy owed her livelihood to Diego. Why would she sabotage it? What’s more, the first picture had arrived in Horowitz’s office long before Amy had. All the great progress of the morning only brought her to a dead end. Amy groaned loud enough for an old man at the next table to her to shush her.

  “Sorry.”

  “Young lady,” he said, “if you’ll take my advice, try reading a book and not your phone. The reason why all you young kids are so stuck these days is that you can’t keep your eyes off these digital contraptions.”

  “You’re right,” Amy said. “What’re you reading?”

  “A classic.” He turned the cover of the book in his hands towards her. A black steamboat sailed along a river through a dense jungle. “Joseph Conrad, Heart of Darkness, ever hear of it?”

  She knew the cover all too well. She had traced her finger repeatedly along that same river as she wrote her master’s thesis in a different library, in a different life.

  “No,” she lied, refusing to dwell on her unfinished masters.

  “All you need to know is in books like these,” he said.

  “Thanks, but that life didn’t really work out for me.” Then she shivered, as she remembered the destructive lie at the central core of Heart of Darkness. Shit. Maybe, the old man did know it all.

  The clash of metal against metal woke her up with a start.

  Diego’s back? A glance at her clock told her that he would be in pre-game warm-ups right about now on the East Coast. So who was downstairs? She dropped her head back into the pillow only to realize that whoever it was had access to the house.

  She flung back the bedclothes, startling Dulce, who was curled around her feet. Pulling her hair hastily into a ponytail and not bothering to change out of her skimpy camisole and silk shorts, she dashed downstairs and peered through the frosted glass door of the gym.