“No to all of the above. I’m still trying to piece a few things together myself before I call anyone. Although I promised Finn I would tell Detective Hart and not fly off to Belize.”
“Belize?”
“That’s where Mr. Frederick ran off to.”
“You don’t know why someone would firebomb his townhouse?” Aria asked.
“Not really. The only two theories I have is that either someone wanted to kill him, or possibly destroy evidence. The Mercedes was parked in his driveway, so if someone was watching the house, maybe they saw the car there and thought that meant he was back in town. As for the evidence, I’m not sure what it could be. I didn’t get a chance to find anything significant.” My train of thought stopped there. Sitting a few tables behind us and looking fabulous was Veronica Mays and she wasn’t alone. A gentleman in business attire sat across from her. I could only see his side profile, but it wasn’t anyone I recognized.
“Look who’s over there,” I said.
Aria did a double take. “She’s looking pretty good,” Aria replied.
“Compared to how I left her last night? You could say that again.” Her blonde hair was perfectly styled. Her nails painted red. The white collar of her blouse was open enough to reveal a beautiful turquoise necklace. A matching ring sat prominently on her middle finger.
“What’s your take, business or pleasure?” I asked.
Aria studied them before responding. “I’m going to go with business. They’re both staying in their own personal space. Look at how her hands are folded in front of her.”
“This must be why she couldn’t meet with me this morning. It must be important. Wonder if it has anything to do with Melanie.”
“What does Veronica do?” Aria asked.
“Like for a living? She’s a ballet dancer,” but as I said the words, that answer sounded completely ridiculous. “Come to think of it, that doesn’t make any sense.” How could a semi-retired, single ballet dancer afford the lifestyle Veronica lived? “Wonder where her money comes from.”
Aria and I watched Veronica take a legal-size envelope out of her bag and hand it to the gentleman. Our eyebrows rose.
“Maybe the secret is inside that envelope,” Aria said.
I wondered what could be inside. Money? Documents? “Maybe he’s her lawyer and they’re meeting about Melanie’s estate,” I said.
“That would make sense,” Aria said.
I had no idea who Melanie’s beneficiary was, but it would make sense that it was her mom since she wasn’t married and didn’t have any siblings. Then again, if she and her mom really were as estranged as Shelly and Gwen said they were, then anyone could stand to gain her inheritance. The question then became, who benefited from Melanie’s death. Zane? I couldn’t see how. Mr. Frederick? One less competitor, but that didn’t explain why his townhouse was targeted. Veronica? I stared at the woman, sensing there was more than met the eye.
I took out my phone and pretended to take a photo of Aria, but instead snapped a couple pictures of Veronica and the mystery man.
Veronica left shortly after handing the envelope over. She didn’t even stay for a drink. The older gentleman, on the other hand, called the waiter over and proceeded to order. He didn’t look to be in a hurry. I casually kept an eye on him while Aria and I ate our breakfasts, but nothing remarkable happened. He had no other visitors and didn’t even chat on his phone.
I looked at my phone. It was already 9:45 AM. “I hate to leave you, but I have to head back to the conference. Want to meet up later?”
“Absolutely. Give me a call when you’re done and we’ll figure out what’s up.”
“Okay, girlie. I’ll see you in a bit.”
I hit the conference floor and was headed to the scheduled room when my cellphone rang. It was Cee Cee.
“Hey, thanks for calling me back. How’s it going?” I asked.
“I’m thinking better than you,” Cee Cee laughed. “What happened?”
“I was involved in a helicopter crash that landed right by Melanie’s body.”
“What?!”
“I know, trust me. I can’t make this stuff up. Anyway, you know me. I’m working with the police out here trying to piece it together, which leads me to you. I need a favor.”
“What’s up?”
“Don’t laugh, but I need to get an audience with Zane Richards.”
It didn’t work. Cee Cee laughed anyway.
“Girl, I’ve been trying to get a statement from Zane since Friday. No luck. His publicist hasn’t returned any requests for comment. I’m not sure I’m going to be much help here.”
“I get that, but I thought if you told him I found Melanie’s body, he might be willing to talk to me. He might have the missing pieces to the puzzle and not even realize it.”
“I can give it try.”
“You can also let his publicist know that I’ve already taken statements from Melanie’s mom and her best friend. I’m sure once he hears that, he’ll want to set the record straight.”
“I saw Veronica’s press conference,” Cee Cee said.
“Brutal, huh?”
“Glad she wasn’t going to be my mother-in-law.” I was too. Heck, I didn’t even know my future mother-in-law, but then again, Finn didn’t know her either.
“I’ll try my best. Would you be willing to share what you find out with me?”
I was prepared for this question. Cee Cee was a reporter first. Who could blame her with a story this big? “How about I’ll tell you whatever I can that doesn’t compromise the case. Is it a deal?”
Cee Cee kept me hanging for a second. It didn’t matter how long she kept me waiting. That was the best deal she was going to get and she knew it.
“Okay, deal. I’ll call his publicist now.”
“Thanks. girl. I owe you.”
“You do,” she replied.
I hung up with Cee Cee and walked into the conference room. The place was already filling up.
I didn’t think I would hear anything back from Zane so soon. I was wrong. Three minutes after I talked to Cee Cee, my phone rang from an unknown number. I took a chance and answered it.
“Hello, this is Ziva.”
“Hi, Ziva. Zane Richards.” It’s one thing to know you gave your number to a rock star, but it’s completely another to have them call you directly. I was expecting his publicist to call or some other agent on his behalf. Not the rock icon himself.
Now was not the time to go off and fangirl on the poor guy, but I’m embarrassed to admit it was pretty hard not to. I’m blaming it on his throaty, British voice. I bet he was sitting in his hotel room, wearing tight black jeans and smoking a cigarette. A look that should not be sexy, but somehow, he made it so. I shook my head to come back down to Earth.
“Hi, Zane. Thanks for getting back with me. I’m really sorry to hear about Melanie.”
“Yeah, it’s a right nightmare.”
“Um... yeah, I guess it is. Anyway, I’m working to help solve Melanie’s murder. I’ve had a chance to talk to Veronica and Gwen, but I need your piece of the puzzle. Would it be possible for me to ask you a few questions?”
“Probably not a good idea.”
“I promise you it’s off the record.” Sorry, Cee Cee. “I just want to help Melanie.”
Zane was silent.
“Listen, I can tell you that what Veronica and Gwen have told me and what I’ve shared with the police, it doesn’t make you look good. Now, maybe you’re guilty. If that’s the case, turn yourself in. But I’m betting you’re not.”
“And?”
“I would think you’d want to help catch your fiancée’s killer and clear your name. Am I wrong?”
“MGM penthouse. Noon.” And the line went dead.
“Okay then,” I said to no one. That gave me an hour and a half. Hopefully the roundtable discussion wouldn’t drag on.
I was wrong. The discussion did drag on, and on, and on. An hour and fifteen minutes into it,
I excused myself from the panel stating a business emergency, and put the conference hall behind me. I needed to think this through. I understood why Zane couldn’t meet in a public place and why going to him was easier. I was just going to have to convince Finn of that. I could have easily told him that I had some stuff to do at the conference and ran to meet Zane real quick, but that wasn’t the way we rolled. We valued honesty above all else in our relationship. I knew Finn wasn’t going to like it, but I was going to meet Zane.
I called Finn. He answered immediately.
“Hey, Zane called me back, but here’s the thing. He wants me to meet him at his hotel room.”
“Not happening. I’m not comfortable with that.”
“I know you’re not, but I need to talk to him.”
“Ziva, we don’t know the guy. Right now, he’s a murder suspect.”
“And he’s going to remain one unless I rule him out.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Ziva, be smart. What if this guy has nothing left to lose?” Finn had me there.
“Okay, you can come along, but you’re not coming into his room. He won’t talk to me with you there. I know he won’t.”
“Fine, but I’m standing outside the door.”
“In the lobby,” I countered.
“Outside the door, but I’ll wait until you go in so he doesn’t see me.”
I blew my bangs out of my eyes. I should never have cut them. “Fine. Meet me in the lobby now or I’m leaving without you.”
15
Walking into the MGM Grand, I couldn’t help but feel like someone was watching me. I was probably being paranoid knowing I was going to meet a famous rock star that hundreds of people would love to talk with at that moment. Nervous energy. Yes, that’s exactly what it was. I set my shoulders back and stood tall, hoping my confidence would help the nerves dissipate.
“How about you head up and then I’ll wait a minute and take the next elevator,” Finn offered.
“Okay. I have my cell phone right here.” I didn’t think I’d need it, but Finn was right, you never knew.
Zane answered the door, wearing tight black jeans and a matching shirt. I knew it! I gave an inward smile. All that was missing was the cigarette. Never mind. I spotted the tendrils of smoke rising from the ashtray on the black baby grand piano framed by the floor-to-ceiling windows. Naturally, the curtains were mostly closed.
Zane looked rough, sporting patchy stumble and dark circles under his eyes. His usual brown spiky hair was flattened forward. He held the door open for me to come in and padded barefoot to the piano. I walked into the room and tried not to stare. The piano was just the beginning. There were couches everywhere. And marble. And I’m pretty sure more than one bathroom. The kind with impressive soaking tubs and vitamin-infused showers and bath tea bags.
I wasn’t sure where I should stand. Next to the piano? In front of it? Behind him? I settled on staying off to the side, half-sitting on the arm of the couch, next to the electronic aromatherapy diffuser and dawn simulation remote. So, this was how the rich stayed in Vegas. I would have to let Aria know we were slumming it.
Without saying a word, Zane sat down in front of the piano and started mindlessly playing a song. It started as a lullaby with a slow flowing melody. The softer, higher notes echoed around the room. It was surprisingly beautiful and unlike anything I had ever heard him play before. The song gradually shifted. The tempo increased and the notes turned sharp. Zane’s fingers flew across the keys. He started hammering the song out, almost frantically as if he were racing against time. The words “tortured soul” came to mind.
Zane continued to play and the minutes ticked by. I looked at my phone and saw Finn had texted.
Is that a piano?
Yes. He hasn’t talked yet.
I had a feeling that this could go on for a while. I didn’t have a while. I stood up and walked around in front of Zane. I thought for a minute that maybe he was in concert mode, but then I realized that his eyes were closed, lost in the music. If it wasn’t so important for me to talk with him, I would’ve just walked out and let him be, but that wasn’t the case.
My fake cough landed on deaf ears. As did clearing my throat. I would have to do something more direct.
“Excuse me, Mr. Richards?”
Nothing.
I touched Zane on the shoulder.
“What?” he asked, startling as if I had just woken him up.
“Sorry, I don’t want to interrupt you, it’s just that I have someone waiting for me.”
Zane stared at me seeming to think about who I was and why I was standing there. “You’re lucky,” he finally said.
“Thank you,” I replied, not sure if that was the correct response.
Zane eyed me again over the smoke from his cigarette. I could feel the sorrow roll off him in waves. If I stayed in this hotel room much longer, I’d be depressed.
“Listen, I can only imagine how hard this is for you. If I could just ask you a couple of questions and then I’ll get out of your hair.”
“What is it you want to know?” Zane asked while stamping the cigarette out.
“I saw you at the fight Friday night,” I said.
“Bloody criminals. Nobody cares about your feelings when you’re an object,” Zane replied.
“You were under contract?” I asked.
Zane nodded. “I had to be there or deal with a lawsuit, so Zane The Rock Star showed up.”
I thought of something else. “Who was the brunette with you?”
“My sister and date fill-in. I dread the day when she tells me to bug off.”
Oh. Well, that wasn’t as scandalous as I had thought. Zane looked at me appearing to wonder if that was the only reason I had interrupted him.
“Can I ask why the silent treatment? Why not release a public statement?” I asked.
“Why should I have to?”
“You shouldn’t. But out of respect for Melanie, it would be nice for you publicly acknowledge her passing.”
“I didn’t think of it that way.” Zane lit another cigarette. I felt compelled to open a window and not just for the fresh air. A little more sunlight in the room wouldn’t hurt the man either.
“What should I say?” he asked.
“What they always say. Something like: I’m heartbroken to have lost the love of my life. Melanie was an amazing person, my best friend, and she will always be missed. I ask that you respect my privacy during this difficult time. You know, something like that.”
“Yes that, what you just said. Have them run that,” Zane took a deep drag while I tried to remember exactly what I had just said.
“How about I text the statement to Cee Cee Thomas. You can approve it before I hit send.” I already had my cell phone out, shooting off a quick text to Finn to let him know that things were okay and I’d be done in a couple of minutes. Zane nodded that the text would be okay, so that’s what we did.
I preempted the statement by texting Cee Cee. “This statement is just for you...and your millions of viewers. You’re welcome.” After I sent both the message and statement to her, she responded with enough smiley-faced emoticons to let me know she was ecstatic.
“Okay, that’s done. Now what can you tell me about Melanie and her mom?” I asked.
Zane responded with a short, four-letter word that described Veronica in a very unfavorable light.
“Got it.” No need to take notes on that one. “Is there any truth to Veronica giving Melanie money to start up her business?”
“I doubt it. Where would Veronica get it from? She’s a has-been ballerina. Make that a never-has-been.”
“Did you by chance lend Melanie the money?” I asked.
“She wouldn’t take it. Melanie could be stubborn. Besides, her father beat me to it.”
“Her father? I thought she didn’t know him?”
“Viktor? Oh, she knows the bloke, all right.”
&nb
sp; “He’s a Russian ballet dancer, right?”
This response got a genuine laugh out of Zane. His eyes lit up and he actually placed his hand on his stomach to stop himself from laughing so hard.
“Viktor can’t even walk in a straight line without stumbling over his feet. That is if he could see them.”
“So, he’s a bigger guy,” I said.
“In more ways than one. Viktor is about Viktor and his power and his money.”
“What does he do then?” I asked.
“He’s a financier. A patron of the arts. A man who hates me.”
“You clearly know him then.”
Zane stood up, took his cigarette with him and headed to the wet bar to fix himself a drink. I shook my head no when he offered the bottle of whisky to me. Zane balanced the cigarette between his lips and used his pointer finger to stir his drink together.
“Viktor and I didn’t agree. He thought I wasn’t good enough for Melanie and I thought I was.” I waited for Zane to take a drink and let him continue. “Last week when we announced our engagement, Melanie got a call from him. He said that was enough. She needed to end her relationship with me or face the consequences. She gave an exclusive interview to Entertainment Now instead. Then she disappeared.”
“Wait, her father threatened her and when she didn’t comply she was murdered?”
“I believe so.”
Wow. “Where’s Viktor now?”
“Probably back in Russia. You’re never going to touch him, and I have the rest of my life to blame myself for Melanie’s death.”
“It’s not your—” I started to say.
“Don’t say it. It is my fault. I should’ve walked away. I wasn’t strong enough.” Zane downed his drink.
“Where were you Wednesday night?” I asked. His fiancée was being honored with some big award and Zane was nowhere to be seen.
“Trying to find that strength.”
“When’s the last time you two talked?” I asked.
Zane seemed to sink down further into despair. “Wednesday afternoon. We’d had a bit of a row after Melanie gave that exclusive interview. I thought it was risky and her father would see it as an insult. Viktor had made it perfectly clear that he wouldn’t tolerate open disobedience.”
Pedicures & Prejudice: A romantic, cozy mystery: Beauty Secrets Mystery Book 4 Page 10