by C. J. Miller
“What is this?” Marissa asked.
“I found it when I came over to start cleaning out her apartment. I can’t afford to pay the rent and the landlord gave me three days to vacate. I thought about taking this down and throwing it away, but I got to thinking it might have something to do with what happened to her,” Jeanne said. Her voice broke and she brought her hand over her mouth.
Marissa hugged Jeanne, wishing she could help ease the woman’s hurt.
Clarice may have been looking into Avery’s murder herself. Had she seen something backstage at Ambrose’s show? Noticed something in the articles tying the murderer to the crime?
“Did Clarice keep a journal or notes?” Jack asked.
“I don’t know. I’ve been hurrying to pack and I haven’t gone through her personal things yet,” Jeanne said.
“I will speak to Clarice’s landlord and ask him to give you time.” Even if she paid a month’s rent to take the pressure off Clarice’s mother and give her time to go through her daughter’s things with care, it was worth it. “We need to bring this to the attention of the police. Clarice may have known something about Avery’s murder. She might have stumbled onto something that made the killer nervous.”
Jeanne sat on the edge of the bed. “Clarice talked about you.” She looked at Marissa with haunted eyes. “And about Avery. She wasn’t pretty like you are. In high school, she was teased for being poor and wearing the wrong clothes. That wasn’t her fault. That was mine. She said that you and Avery treated her nice.”
Marissa’s heart ached for Jeanne. “Clarice was good at her job, the best in the business. Everyone who worked with her respected her. She is deeply missed.”
Jeanne put her head in her hands and started to cry. Marissa sat next to her on the bed and patted her back gently. No words could make this right.
Jack was staring at the photos on the wall. After Jeanne composed herself, she stood from the bed.
Jack took out his cell phone. “Do you mind if I take pictures? Clarice was a smart lady. She may have been onto something important. I’m not seeing it now, but maybe it will come to me.”
“Jeanne, let’s you and I fix a cup of tea and let Jack get what he needs. I can tell you some stories about Clarice that will make you proud.” Marissa steered Jeanne out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, leaving Jack to look around.
* * *
Museums relaxed Marissa. Her love of art was well fed there. The Metropolitan Museum of Art was one of her favorites. It had on display a collection of artwork and furniture from the Gilded Age. Marissa planned to meet Kit at the museum to peruse the exhibit and then have lunch together in the city.
Kit was waiting near the front doors inside the main lobby of the museum. The vaulted ceilings, pillars and arches never failed to take Marissa’s breath away. The lobby itself was a work of art. Marissa hugged her sister, happy to be with her. They didn’t see each other as often as Marissa would have liked. She had sold her apartment in Los Angeles the year before and had moved to New York. It had been a change she’d needed and had made travel easier, having more jobs on the East Coast.
Griffin and Jack exchanged greetings and followed them into the museum.
“I’ve been worried about you,” Kit said.
“Even with Jack with me?” Marissa asked.
“Even with Jack. I’ve followed the case through his reports. He’s detailed, which means I know what’s been going on,” Kit said.
Marissa and Kit stopped in front of a portrait of a man in a beige suit and red sweater vest, his hand propped on his hip. His arm was resting on a stairwell bannister and he looked a mix of angry and bored.
“I’m sorry I’ve been out of touch. Griffin and I were working a project that required our full attention. Going forward, I’ll check in more. We’re thinking about staying in New York for a few weeks,” Kit said.
“Staying to sightsee or to keep an eye on me?” Marissa asked.
“Not just you. Mom. Luke and Zoe Ann. Mom’s called a few times. I feel disconnected not living close to you all,” Kit said.
Her mother and brother had moved back to New York around the time Marissa had. Kit, true to form, had followed her own path.
“Do you feel like New York is home?” Marissa asked. They had grown up in Queens and it was Marissa’s career that had sent them across the country and her work that had brought her back.
Kit looked over her shoulder at Griffin and Jack. They were standing near a cluster of benches speaking in hushed tones. Their arms were folded and they were watching her and Kit.
“Home is where I am with Griffin.”
The warm sentiment made Marissa jealous. She had never felt that way about a man as if being near him brought a sense of peace or security. “I have so much to tell you.”
Kit nodded, encouraging Marissa to continue.
“First, Mom wants me to let Luke and Zoe Ann move in with me because she’s pregnant and neither of them has a stable, safe place to live.”
Kit rolled her eyes. “Mom is crazy. That would never work. Luke needs to get up off his rear end, dust off his ego and get a job.”
“He claims he can’t find one,” Marissa said.
“He’s had job offers. He just wants a job that’s as good as his last one. That doesn’t exist. It’s a different world. He won’t find a six-figure job with an expense account.”
“He could move back to LA, but Zoe Ann wants to stay in the city. She’s hoping to get a lead in a play.” It was a good reason to stay in the area. “Do you think I’m selfish for not letting them move in with me?” Marissa asked.
Kit considered it. Marissa could expect the truth from her sister.
“In this case, no. I think you should talk to Luke directly. If Mom gets involved, it will be complicated and over-the-top dramatic. Spell it out for Luke. You will be happy to help him, but he needs to do the heavy lifting.”
Hearing Kit reaffirm what she’d thought, Marissa felt better. “The second news is that I’m falling for Jack.”
Kit’s eyes went wide. “You should have led with that! What do you mean? Are you in love with him?”
Marissa brushed her hair out of her eyes. She wouldn’t call what she and Jack had love. He was sexy and smart and had a fine body, but love was a huge step. “Not love. At least, I don’t think so. I have feelings for him. I have a terrible track record with men. I fall in lust easily. I feel it strongly and I think it’s love, but I don’t know for sure.”
“If you were in love with him, you’d know for sure.”
“I married twice, because each time I thought I was in love. When I look back, I don’t know,” Marissa said. Love, excitement, lust, adventure and a challenge produced similar highs in her psyche.
“Have you told him? Has anything happened between you two?” Kit asked.
“Is this between us as sisters, not you being his colleague?”
“Of course. Just sister stuff. None of this gets back to work.”
Marissa tried to find the words to explain what had happened between her and Jack. It was simultaneously magic and real and wonderful and inspiring. “When we’re out, and he’s on duty, he is totally professional. He misses nothing. He is careful and watchful. But when we’re home and I make it clear that he is off the clock, he’s warm and tender and sweet. And my goodness, he is the sexiest man I have ever seen.”
They walked to the next portrait on the wall. This one featured a woman with almost ceramic skin wearing a cylinder-shaped hat and staring blandly.
“I think you’re a catch, Marissa, but I’m surprised. You’re not his type.”
Marissa felt like her feathers had been ruffled. “Not his type?” Her sister didn’t underestimate her the way most others did and her words felt like a slight.
“Has Jac
k told you about his past relationships?” Kit asked.
“We haven’t talked about exes. I like to avoid that conversation whenever possible because it’s not an area that I’m proud of,” Marissa said.
“You’d have to get the details from Jack, but he dated someone in college. Jack wanted to marry her, but she broke up with him to move to LA to become an actress. Never got a part, but she didn’t come back to him. She married some ad executive. Broke and stomped Jack’s heart.”
“He’s still pining for her?” Marissa asked.
“I didn’t say he was pining for her. He was hurt and according to Griffin, he’s got a thing against women in show biz.”
“He never mentioned it,” Marissa said. The former relationship could explain some of his hesitation to get involved with her.
“Did you mention your ex-husbands?” Kit asked.
“Maybe once or twice. Only as it related to the case.”
“Has he told you about how he was injured?” Kit asked.
“He did,” Marissa said.
Kit’s eyes went wide with surprise. “You’re not dealing with a trusting man eager to jump into a relationship.”
Though Marissa sensed him holding back at times, he had also showed her a side of him that was open and warm. “Why are you telling me this? Do you not want me to be with Jack?”
“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Kit said. “And men like Griffin and Jack come with baggage. They’ve seen dark things and have been to dark places.”
“Isn’t it our role then to make sure they see and feel the light?”
* * *
“You slept with her,” Griffin said.
A statement of a fact, not a question. Jack didn’t deny it. They were operatives, trained to see the truth written between the lines. “Yes.” He felt a twinge of guilt, knowing Griffin had asked him to look after Marissa and this wasn’t what he had in mind.
“I know you well enough to say that you’re not sleeping with her for sport.”
“I don’t sleep with women for sport. I respect them too much,” Jack said.
“Good answer. But you have a lot going on. How does Marissa figure into your long-term plans?” Griffin asked.
Jack didn’t have a plan. He had been moving from operation to operation for years. When he was seriously injured and betrayed by Bianca, his life slid off the skids. He was trying to put it back together. “I’ll be retested for fitness in the field when my knee is better. I’ll know more then.”
Griffin rocked back on his heels. “You plan to leave Marissa and end it when your knee heals.”
“What’s the alternative?” Jack asked. To stay her bodyguard forever was unrealistic. The person targeting her would be caught and following her around the country would get old. He needed a life of his own. Following her when she didn’t need him wasn’t appealing.
“Kit and I make it work. I travel. She sometimes comes with me.”
Kit and Marissa were opposites. Kit worked for the West Company. She was involved in difficult operations and she understood the restrictions of the job. “I told Marissa about what I do for a living. Nothing too detailed. She won’t understand the traveling and the pressure.” He didn’t understand it at times. Doing those jobs no one else was willing to do had cost him.
“What did she say when you told her?”
“She was chill about it. She had already guessed most of it. I filled in a few details.”
“You’re not giving her the benefit of the doubt,” Griffin said.
“Being photographed with her too often could become a problem for my work. What if I’m on an undercover op and someone recognizes me from a tabloid picture?”
“I can see how that would be a problem,” Griffin said. “I’ve been where you are. It sounds like you’re burned out. Maybe you need a break.”
“This job was supposed to be my break. But it has me thinking about work and if I want to return.”
“Does your reluctance to return to work have anything to do with Bianca?” Griffin asked.
The familiar sensation of sadness slid over him. “I’ve considered it. It was hard to testify against her. Hard to know she would spend the rest of her life in prison.”
“She made her choices,” Griffin said.
“But I was her partner and I should have seen it and stopped her. Maybe I’m getting rusty. Maybe it’s time for me to be put out to pasture.”
“Don’t talk like that. If you’re ready to retire, then you’ve earned it. But no one will force you out,” Griffin said.
Griffin had helped him out of a tough spot a few years prior. Jack had needed shelter during an operation and Griffin had been working an op in the area. He had hid Jack and lied to the people pursuing him to protect him.
“I feel burned out,” Jack said.
“That’s the injury talking,” Griffin said.
Jack wasn’t sure. He had been hurt before. Never shot; that was a first. But he had never felt mentally and emotionally exhausted by the job.
Chapter 11
Marissa hated the dress she was wearing for this live television interview. It was blue and white, like something Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz would wear. The shoes she’d been handed were great. She was running late and she didn’t have time to argue about the wardrobe.
A clothing guard was draped around her shoulders and her hair and makeup were done in a hurry. Being a guest on the morning news program was an honor. Ambrose had been invited as well and he would be coming on after her interview. They’d be on the set together, which Marissa hoped would play well. Her genuine affection and friendship with Ambrose would come through to the audience.
Marissa’s name had been in the headlines lately and the interviewer had agreed that any questions about Avery were off-limits. Marissa didn’t know the host, Sarah Chasen, well enough to know if she would abide by their agreement.
Marissa had half a mind to walk out of the interview if it went sideways. But doing that would show badly on television. She tried to keep her hands steady and not show how nervous she was.
Sarah was introducing Marissa and then the stage assistant was cueing her to walk into the set. Marissa couldn’t see the audience with the blinding lights. That might be better. It was easier for her to imagine she was speaking with Sarah without several thousand eyes watching her. One of those eyes could be Avery’s killer. Marissa focused on appearing relaxed and happy as she strode across the polished hardwood floors.
She took her seat in the purple chair across from Sarah’s pale pink couch. The white coffee table was set with coffee mugs; Marissa’s was filled with water. She and Sarah greeted each other.
“I know you are very busy. Thank you for coming out to talk with me today,” Sarah said.
“My pleasure to be here,” Marissa said. Did that sound fake? She wished she was anywhere else.
Jack was standing off the sound stage. She could see him ten yards behind Sarah, out of sight of the audience, watching.
“Declan Ambrose says that you’re a huge inspiration for his latest line of clothing. How did you two meet?”
Her nerves touched down. No mention of Avery. “Ambrose was working for another designer, who is a friend of mine and he made the introduction. Ambrose was also teaching fashion design classes at the community college. His talent was obvious from the first time I saw his designs,” Marissa said.
“How much influence have you had over Ambrose’s designs?” Sarah asked.
Another work-related question. Still in the clear. “Ambrose could better answer that question. I weighed in on fabrics and Ambrose has asked me when he’s trying to choose between two similar designs, but the genius and the freshness is him.” She wouldn’t take credit for Ambrose’s success.
“Tell us what you
have planned over the next year,” Sarah said.
Marissa hated that question. She had made the mistake before of mentioning her husband and their plans, which was inevitably rehashed in the media after her divorce. Her career continued to move forward, more contracts, more work, but she wanted to have a significant life event to share. “I’ve been working, but I’d like to take some classes to pursue my interests.”
“Modeling classes? Surely, you don’t need those,” Sarah said and laughed.
“Nothing related to modeling.”
“Are you retiring from modeling?” Sarah asked.
Marissa could imagine her agent and press relations manager’s faces if she answered that question honestly. She hadn’t constructed a game plan for how and when she would retire and announce it. “I’m considering taking a break.”
Sarah’s eyes lit. Marissa had just given her the scoop on a story she hadn’t planned to reveal. “Does the break have anything to do with the man you’ve been seen with around town? There’s been speculation that your marriages struggled because you’re in the spotlight.”
Marissa kept her expression neutral though she was incensed. Talking about her previous marriages was a sore spot and she had practiced her response in the mirror. Discussing Jack and his reason for being in her life would open the door to a conversation about Avery. And while Sarah probably wouldn’t ask about Avery directly given their arrangement, most of the audience knew what had happened to her and the conversation could swirl around it. “I’m not dating anyone.”
Sarah crossed her legs. “That can’t be true.”
“Not looking for ex-husband number three,” she said. She had intended the comment to be humorous, but her own words were like a knife between the ribs.
Sarah laughed, seemingly unaware how uncomfortable she was making Marissa. They talked for a few minutes about a recent jewelry campaign Marissa had modeled for and Sarah went to break.
“Cameras not rolling, if you aren’t with that handsome man who escorted you here, who is he?” Sarah asked.