Dangerous Love

by E. B. Walters

  He pulled up to the curb and leaned hard on his car horn. When the driver’s door open and Eddie Fitzgerald stepped out, Ken’s ire disappeared. He rolled down his window and called out, “Ever heard of parking at the curb, Fitzgerald?”

  A grin lifted the corner of the detective’s lips. “I didn’t want some idiot swiping my ride, man.” He dusted an area on the car’s body with the sleeve of his jacket. “I just picked up this baby. Isn’t she a beauty?”

  Ken grinned. The cop had a weakness after all. “You and your baby will have to find a spot elsewhere. I need to get inside my garage.”

  Eddie smirked. “Fine. But I still need to use your driveway if you don’t mind.”

  “Be my guest.” Ken waited until Eddie pulled out. He pressed the remote to open the door and slid into his garage. Eddie eased behind him and paused to swipe at another imaginary speck when he got out of his car. Ken shook his head. “I thought we had a meeting on Monday.”

  Eddie shrugged. “Your people gave me everything I needed, but now we need to talk.”

  “About?”

  Eddie glanced up and down the condominium complex. “Things we can’t discuss out here.”

  Ken led the way into his apartment, grabbed two bottles of beer from the fridge and offered one to Eddie. “Unless you’re on duty and would like something else.”

  Eddie smirked and took the bottle.

  “I’m always on duty, Lambert.” He extended the bottle toward Ken to open it.

  With a flick of his wrist, Ken removed the cap and threw it on the counter. Sipping their drinks, they moved to the living room. Ken took a seat and nodded at the couch opposite. “What’s going on, detective?”

  “Which one of your guys was keeping an eye on Molly and why?” Eddie asked.

  Ken leaned back and guzzled his drink. Somehow he’d known the detective would put two and two together. “What makes you think my people were tailing her?”

  “The witness who called the police sounded like a pro when he gave the description of the two men he saw coming out of her house and the car they drove. Then he conveniently disappeared.” Eddie’s eyes narrowed. “Who was it?”

  “Duncan. It’s a good thing he got there when he did and called you or she would have bled to death.”

  “Why her and not Faith’s other employees?”

  “Remember the online video I mentioned in passing?”

  Eddie nodded.

  “She posted it. We weren’t sure whether she did it out of loyalty to Faith or to cover her tracks.”

  Eddie cocked his brow. “Do you still think she’s guilty?”

  “No, not after the way those thugs beat her up and her financial situation. She has no unusual transactions, no new purchases or monies sent home to her parents. The girl lives from paycheck to paycheck.”

  “Our investigation confirms she’s clean too. We found a laptop case and power cord, but no computer. We think they took it, which is very interesting in the light of what you just told me.” Eddie got to his feet. “Do you have a computer here?”

  Ken’s eyes narrowed. “Some. Why?”

  “The video has resurfaced. I don’t know how long it’s been up, but it’s gone viral.” Ken got up before the detective finished the second sentence. “A few of the people recognized Sean and are having a field day with their comments,” Eddie added.

  Ken was already rebooting his system. His fingers flew across the keyboard. Within seconds, several links with the video popped up. Not good. “Did you tell Faith about this?”

  “Of course not. Our data guys came across it and gave me the heads up. Can you make it go away?”

  “Not personally, but my people can.” He punched in Sly’s number.

  “Can I get another one of these?” Eddie indicated his empty beer bottle.

  “The fridge…help yourself,” Ken answered without looking up. “We have a problem,” he spoke into the receiver once the phone was picked up on the other side.

  “What is it, boss?” Sly asked.

  “That video you pulled down a few days ago is up again. Get rid of it permanently this time.”

  “Sure, boss. Just a second.” There was silence on the line before Sly came back. “The upload came from the same I.P. address as before. How could she have posted it when she’s in the hospital?”

  “Someone stole her laptop. Can you get rid of it?”

  “Yes. There’re several blogs with the video, including four very popular social network sites, but the code is the same. Once we disable the original code, all the videos will stop streaming.”

  “Good.” He put the phone down and looked up. Eddie was nursing his second drink while shamelessly listening to Ken’s side of the conversation. “He’ll take care of it.”

  Eddie pushed against the wall and walked to Ken’s side. “I take it you located her through her IP address the legal way.”

  “You can take it any way you want it, detective. It’s on a need-to-know basis and you don’t need to know.” Ken grinned. Landing behind bars was a possibility, but he wasn’t cutting corners and flirting with illegal activities to thump his nose at the system or outsmart a crooked man. This was for his woman. Faith was worth anything.

  Eddie took the only other chair in the office and leaned forward. “I need to know. Internet service providers protect the privacy of their subscribers, but if the two punks who hurt Molly used her laptop to upload the video again, I can legally ask their ISP for their address.”

  “Then you can nab them. Great! I’ll get it.” Ken called Sly again and got the IP address.

  Eddie took a swig from the bottle then put his drink on the coffee table. “Now let’s talk about Deidre the jeweler.”

  “What about her?”

  “Except for occasional ranting by a jealous husband and unruly teenagers, all of Faith’s employees are clean. But there’s something about her that bothers me.” Eddie drained his drink and put the bottle down before continuing. “Her telephone activities seem a bit odd.”

  Ken’s mind raced over what he knew about the woman. “She hasn’t received a single personal call since my people started monitoring her, which is very odd.” Deidre was in her early-thirties and a rather attractive woman from what Ken saw when she was in Faith’s store. In fact, the picture in her file didn’t do her justice. “At first I thought she was anti-social or just didn’t date.”

  Eddie snickered. “It’s impossible to be anti-social when your business involves interacting with people. The woman attends fashion and trade shows to hawk her jewelry almost every month.”

  “From the logged calls, both her cell and home phone are buzzing with business calls from customers demanding her work, but nothing personal. She must have another phone for personal use.”

  “My thoughts exactly.” Eddie leaned forward and prop his elbows on his knees. “She was at a show in Seattle, which ended on Saturday, but she still hasn’t come back to L.A. Even more interesting, I tried to run a background check on her and came up blank. Do you know how she and Faith met, who approached the other first?”

  “No, but I’ll ask Faith when she gets back. Do you think Deidre is the one working with O’Neal?”

  “I don’t know. She’s a puzzler. See if your people can locate her.”

  Ken nodded and started to get up.

  “Not so fast, Lambert. What are your plans for Thanksgiving?”

  Ken had just come back from his parents’ wedding anniversary and although it was great seeing them, that much time with his father put stiff kinks in his back. Now that he’d returned home, he looked forward to some relaxing time.

  “I’ll be around.”

  “My family usually has a big get together every Thanksgiving. Unfortunately, I won’t be around to watch Faith’s back. I’d hoped you could to take her out of town or something.”

  “Why?”

  “O’Neal will be there.”

  Ken chuckled even though he wasn’t amused. It bugged him that Sean wa
s so close to Faith’s family. “You don’t know Faith very well if you think she can’t handle O’Neal or any situation that may arise.”

  “She usually does. Unfortunately, Thanksgiving is at my Aunt Viv’s and no one messes with her guests.”

  That name again. Ken frowned. “What is so special about this aunt of yours?”

  “She’s the eldest of all my grandfather’s twelve children and the chairman of Fitz Corp.”

  Ken pursed his lips and mentally went over the conversations he’d had with Faith about her aunt. The power Viv Fitzgerald wielded over her family now made sense. As the chairman of the parent company of all Fitzgerald holdings, she held the purse strings to the family fortune.

  “So can you keep an eye on Faith or what?”

  Ken knew of a secluded rental cottage in Malibu that might make a wonderful gateway, but he’d learned not to presume anything with his Faith. “That will depend.”

  “On what?” Eddie snapped.

  “On Faith. If you haven’t noticed, no one tells your cousin what to do.”

  Eddie dismissed the comment with a sharp flick of his hand. “I’ve seen you work your mojo on unsuspecting females, man. Take her somewhere fun.” He stood and stared down at Ken, his eye narrowed. “Thanks for the IP address. I’ll let you know when we nab the two thugs. If you need help with anything, you know my number.”

  Ken followed Eddie to the door. “So what’s happening with you on Thanksgiving?”

  “None of your business,” Eddie retorted, but with little heat.

  “Must be a girl. I didn’t know you dated, Fitzgerald. How come you’re not bringing her home to the family?”

  Eddie chuckled. “FYI, I don’t date girls, Lambert. I date women. Second, when I bring my woman home, she’ll have my ring on her finger and be tied to me in every possibly way. My family is a mean bunch.”

  Ken stopped smiling. He’d love to go with Faith to her family’s Thanksgiving dinner, especially with pin-head O’Neal there. Convincing her to take him was another story all together.

  He pushed the matter aside, locked up and went over the plans for tomorrow night one last time. Faith might not like the changes he’d made, but it was for his own peace of mind.

  ***

  Faith studied the model’s graceful stride, the way the flirty gown hugged her hips and frothed around her ankles. She’d just gotten her thirteenth girl. Two more and she’d be done.

  “Next are the pants and the jacket,” Faith said as she helped her out of the dress. Out of habit, she glanced at the door separating the lounge from the salon. It stayed closed though voices of the hotel guests filtered through the door. The curtains on the floor-to-ceiling windows facing West Broadway were also drawn to give them total privacy.

  She’d rented the lounge as her temporary showroom the last two days, using it mostly in the mornings and part of the afternoon. The fact that it was downstairs from her room at Soho Grand was also very convenient. To top it, the hotel had a dream staff. Maybe the long-legged models streaming through their doors had something to do with it or they were always so accommodating, but whatever their reason, the staff had willingly rearranged the room, pushing the couches and tables aside and stashing the bar stools, so the girls had enough room to strut.

  Faith finished adjusting the buttons on the jacket then stepped back to watch the girl. So far, Marcela’s models hadn’t disappointed her. Most were very professional despite being young. They also came from diverse racial backgrounds, just like she’d requested. A few had come across as surly and too temperamental for her to work with and had been deleted off the list.

  “That’s it. Thank you, Savannah.” Faith scribbled a few notes on the folder with the girl’s portfolio. She had longer chestnut hair in the photographs, which was now cut short to give her an edgier look, but weaves can take care of that. Faith already had an idea about the hairstyle to use on the show.

  “Can I ask you something, Ms. Fitzgerald?”

  Faith looked up. “Sure.”

  Savannah pointed at the wide gemstone choker around Faith’s neck. “Is that one of your own creations?”

  Faith smiled. She’d expected to hear the same question most of the other models had asked—“How long did you stay with Marcela before you decided to give up?” They’d been satisfied with her answer that she hadn’t given up, just chosen to go in a different direction.

  She touched the suspended sterling hearts and black lotus blossom onyx, a one-of-a-kind creation from Deidre’s collection. “No. A friend makes them and designed this specifically for me. Why do you ask?”

  “It’s such a beautiful piece and would go so well with the evening gown I just modeled.” Savannah took a step back, her smile slipping. “I, uh, hope I didn’t speak out of turn.”

  “No, you didn’t,” Faith reassured her. “I like people who speak their mind whether I agree with them or not. In this case, you’re right. Deidre has unique eye for detail, which is why I sell her jewelry in my store and online store. Unfortunately, I can’t use her work during Fashion Week.”

  “Why?” The model’s smile was tentative.

  “My sponsors plan to supply me with their jewelry. It’s parts and parcel of doing business with them.”

  “Oh. That’s so not fair. Sponsors have hijacked most fashion shows and are stealing the spotlight from designers.”

  The girl was smart as well as beautiful, but too young to be so jaded. “Well, the cost of presenting a show keeps going up and struggling designers need their help. I’m surprised you’ve noticed the blatant product placement. How long have you been modeling?”

  A sheepish smile touched the girl’s lips and her cheeks grew pink. “Six months, but my mother used to be a model.” She wrinkled her pert nose. “She kind of expected me to follow in her footsteps, so here I am. But I’m more interested in making jewelry. I just don’t know if I can get the kind of exposure I need to be successful.”

  Faith frowned. Deidre had been disappointed when Faith told her that she couldn’t use her jewelry in the show, but they both understood Faith had no choice in the matter. Without sponsors, she couldn’t afford models like Savannah, let alone the exorbitant fee for Fashion Week. Deidre was just like her, struggling to make a name for herself.

  “Don’t give up on your dreams, Savannah. Opportunities appear when you least expect them.”

  The girl flashed a smile. “Thanks for talking to me and the chance to model some of your collection. They’re truly gorgeous.” She waved and left the room.

  If Faith hadn’t chosen the girl already, she would have changed her mind. Savannah had spunk. Her thoughts drifted to Deidre. When they spoke last week, Deidre was on the road, selling her work at various shows across the country. Faith hadn’t heard from her since, but she hoped she caught a break.

  After she finished with the last girls, Faith packed up the clothes in garment bags and locked them up in her room. She set off for Marcela’s, heading north on Broadway, feeling the pulse of the city. She couldn’t get enough of the richness and rawness of downtown New York: the cobbled streets, the fine art galleries and chic cafés inside cast-iron buildings lined with narrow sidewalks. Even the people with their briskness and air of self-importance were a breather from L.A.’s beach bum attitude draped over dreams of stardom. She had missed this city. But three days of marathon fitting, and another going from meeting to meeting with the genius who was going to produce her show, checking out the venue, and ironing out details of the show had drained her. Despite the success of the trip, she missed home, her store and…Ken.

  A gentle smile touched her lips. He had called her every night and made the last four days go by fast. Unfortunately, going back to L.A. meant being closer to Sean. Not doing anything about that man made her blood boil. At least he hadn’t called her again.

  Faith was in and out of Elegance Modeling Agency in minutes. She left Marcela with a check with many zeroes. Back at Soho Grand, she finished packing her bags and
ordered room service from the restaurant downstairs. After haunting her old joints in Soho, she’d opted for the classic American cuisine the hotel offered.

  A knock at the door announced the arrival of her dinner. She grabbed her purse, pulled out a wad of notes to tip the waiter and hurried to the door. The smile died on her lips when she opened the door and found Marcela, not a waiter with a tray.

  “Marc, what are you doing here?” Even as the question left her lips, she noted that the Briton wasn’t her usual smiley self. Her lush lips with their signature ruby-red lipstick were drawn in a tight pinch and her hazel eyes flashed. Faith’s stomach dipped.

  “May I come in?”

  “Of course.” Faith stepped back and closed the door after the woman stepped inside her room. Faith glanced at her watch. It was almost eight. The two of them had concluded their business hours ago.

  “We need to talk.” Marcela took the couch and waved toward the side chair as though she was the owner of the room and Faith the guest.

  Faith sat on the edge of the seat. “What is going on?”

  “The check you gave me this afternoon didn’t go through.”

  The floor shifted under Faith. “What?”

  “Your account has been frozen, Faith. I don’t know what’s going on, but you need to call your bank.”

  Faith tried to swallow but her mouth had gone dry. Her business account was frozen. Why? “I don’t know what’s going on, but I, uh…”

  “Find out and fix it. In this business, it’s easy to develop a bad reputation for reneging on deals or not paying up. Do you want me to hold on to this?” She lifted the check Faith had given her earlier.

  “Yes, if you don’t mind,” Faith croaked.

  Marcela nodded and got up. Her smile was uneasy, but Faith didn’t blame her. This was a business transaction gone wrong, an embarrassing situation she must salvage before word got out. Not that Marcela was the gossiping type. She was just too close to her aunt and her Hollywood friends for Faith’s peace of mind. But she couldn’t tell the woman to keep this new development between them. She had attempted that same approach with Barbara and gotten nowhere.