by Sibel Hodge
His eyes widened, and he looked like he’d just been caught with his pants down in the library. ‘Jessie won’t speak to me now, and I really love her still,’ he mumbled. ‘I never should’ve succumbed to a moment of weakness with Aleesha, but, I swear, I’ve never threatened her. Why would I threaten to kill her? I need her on the show now. If she’s not here, the ratings will go back down, the show will be cancelled, and I’ll lose the producer’s slot.’
I studied him carefully. He didn’t seem angry, just embarrassed about the whole thing. Plus, he was right. What did have to gain by threatening her? He needed her on his side.
‘Well, thanks for your time.’ I spotted Felicia standing to our side, pretending to be watching what the camera operator was doing but more likely eavesdropping on our conversation.
‘You’re welcome.’ Steve gave me a relieved smile.
I wound my way round the equipment, heading for Felicia, and saw the comedian and co-presenter, Tania Tate, come into the studio. She had a weekly sitcom series running every Friday night about a French family who’d taken over an English bed and breakfast, kind of like ’Allo ’Allo meets Fawlty Towers. She was in her late thirties, short, with black spiral curls down to her shoulder blades. Maybe one of them would have a useful tidbit of information for me.
‘I got all the way home and realized I’d forgotten my reading glasses!’ Tania rolled her eyes at Felicia. ‘I’d lose my brain if it wasn’t attached.’
‘I saw them here somewhere earlier.’ Felicia glanced around the studio, frowning. ‘Now, where were they?’ She wandered off to search for them and I sidled up to Tania.
‘Hi, I’m Amber Fox.’ I smiled at her and reached out a hand to shake hers. ‘I’m a big fan.’
Tania grinned. ‘Thanks. Nice to meet you.’ She pumped my hand enthusiastically.
‘I’m looking into some threats Aleesha’s received and wondered if you had any ideas about who could be doing it.’
‘Aleesha’s getting threatened?’ Tania raised her eyebrows in shock. ‘Well, I know she has a bit of a reputation for being difficult, but I actually get along really well with her. We seem to have a good vibe together on the show, and I like her down-to-earth attitude.’ She leaned in conspiratorially. ‘Much better than all this up-your-own-arse pomposity that a lot of the TV people have. All the fame seems to go to their heads, you know? At least Aleesha is staying true to her roots and just being herself.’
Well, that was one way to look at it, I supposed.
‘So you didn’t hear anyone on set threaten Aleesha?’
‘No. And I really don’t know her well enough to have a clue who might be doing it. What sort of threats are they?’
‘Death threats.’
‘Wow. Pretty serious then? But, then, I think probably most people in the public eye have received some sort of threats or unwanted public attention in their career. It’s probably nothing to worry about. Just some crackpot who’s a bit bored.’
Maybe, maybe not. ‘Well, if you think of anything that might be helpful, can you let me know, please?’ I handed her my card.
‘Of course.’ She smiled at me as Felicia came bounding over like an excited puppy.
Felicia handed Tania a beige glasses case. ‘Here they are. They were in the kitchen.’
‘Thanks very much. What would I do without you?’ Tania left us both with a smile.
Felicia pushed the glasses up her nose, even though they hadn’t fallen down. A nervous tick, methinks.
‘I know who you are. I heard you introducing yourself,’ Felicia said softly.
‘And you’re Felicia?’
‘Yes. Felicia Seabright.’
‘What do you do here, Felicia?’
‘I’m taking media studies at university, and I’m doing an internship here.’ She gave me a pinched smile. ‘I help out on set three days a week.’
‘Do you have much to do with Aleesha when she’s here for the Real Women show?’
She tutted angrily. ‘That hussy! The woman is so rude to people. And so needy. She flounces around like she owns the whole world, and she treats me like a piece of dirt. Someone needs to teach her some good old-fashioned values, like wearing more clothes, and some manners.’
Interesting. And would Felicia be the one who wanted to teach her some? ‘You don’t like her much, do you?’
‘No.’ She narrowed her eyes, which looked kind of scary since they were magnified about a squillion times behind the thick lenses. ‘She’s a floozy, a tart, a trollop, and a heathen.’
I agreed with the first bits, but a heathen? What did that have to do with anything?
‘Aleesha’s been getting threatening letters and other things.’ I didn’t mention the knickers. Maybe I could catch her out if she was the one sending them.
‘Well, it’s not me!’ Her mouth formed into a shocked O, and her glasses shot down the end of her nose. She pushed them back on with a finger. ‘I don’t like the…’ She puckered up her face, as if trying to think of a suitable word. ‘…floozy, but I wouldn’t threaten her.’ She chewed on her bottom lip for a second. ‘I did hear Jessie threaten her before she got thrown off the show, though.’
‘What happened?’
Felicia’s gaze darted around, and she lowered her voice. ‘Well, when Jessie found out that Aleesha had replaced her, they had a blazing row in the studio. Jessie said she’d kill her.’
I raised an eyebrow, thinking if Aleesha had just slept with my fiancé and lost me my job, I might threaten to kill her, too. But had Jessie actually acted on that and sent the letters and knickers? I mean, we all make threats in the height of anger that we would never actually carry out.
‘When was this?’
‘Two weeks ago.’
And the letters started a week ago. Maybe Jessie had been stewing away with anger for a week before she decided on a campaign of threats to get her revenge.
‘OK,’ I said, giving her a beaming smile. ‘Thanks for your help.’
I left her standing there frantically adjusting her glasses. I wasn’t convinced about Felicia yet. Maybe the freaky eyes made me disbelieve her, or the fact that she seemed nervous. Maybe it was because Aleesha treated her like crap. Or maybe because she obviously had a thing for Steve Pants-Down, and jealousy and unrequited love did funny things to people. Still, if Jessie had threatened Aleesha, I had to take it seriously.
Chapter 6
It had been a long day. Right about now, I should’ve been craving junk food and a sugar rush. But as I drove back to the now empty barn conversion I shared with Brad, instead of a rumbling in my stomach, I had what felt like angry birds there, pecking at my insides. Tonight I had to sleep in our big bed alone, and God knows what the sleeping arrangements would be at Aleesha’s house.
On the way home, I called Hacker and asked him to check out whether Felicia Seabright was a secret chocolate knickers-buyer online.
As I opened my door, Marmalade, my ginger cat, greeted me. He sat there giving me a look as if to say, ‘What time do you call this? I was hungry hours ago.’
I scooped him up in my arms and rubbed my chin against his head. ‘God, you’re heavy. I think you need to go on a diet.’ Since I’d moved in with Brad, Marmalade had been doing starving kitty eyes at both of us, playing one off against the other to see how much food he could get. Brad obviously thought the way to a woman’s heart was through her pussy, so he was obliging in the ‘spoil Marmalade’ stakes. Looked like Marmalade’s little ploy was working, the sneaky devil.
Marmalade purred in response as I carried him into the kitchen and poured half the usual amount of gross-smelling kitty biscuits into his bowl. He stared at the bowl, then looked up at me in disgust at the miniature portions.
‘Hey, if you don’t want it, I’ll take it back!’ I wagged a finger at him.
That got him going. He practically jumped in the bowl before I could whip it away and started tucking in.
OK, I talk to my cat. That’s not so weird. I
often ask him questions, too, and I’m convinced he’s some kind of magical cat who understands English. What? That doesn’t make me mad. I like to think it makes me more sensitive and in tune with wildlife. Well, that’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.
I opened the fridge door and peeked inside. Usually, Brad did the cooking. I couldn’t cook anything without burning it or giving us food poisoning. I still wasn’t hungry, but I needed to eat something before I wasted away. I pulled out a bowl of lasagne that Brad had made the night before, removed the tin foil covering, and set it on the granite breakfast bar with a spoon.
Wine. What I needed to unwind was lots and lots of wine. I turned round and rummaged in the wine cupboard, pulling out various bottles of red. French or Chilean? I wiggled the bottles, trying to decide. I uncorked the Chilean, grabbed a glass out of the dishwasher, and poured a hefty-sized drink. I was just gulping it down and feeling a lovely, mellow relaxation in my clenched stomach muscles when I heard a noise behind me.
Marmalade had his head stuck in the lasagne and was busy scoffing it.
‘Hey!’ I put the glass down and picked him off the breakfast bar. ‘You little piggy.’
I sat him back on the floor, and I swear he gave me a ‘what-do-you-expect-when-you don’t-feed-me-much’ shrug.
The lasagne was ruined now, so I scraped the remains into his bowl. He purred loudly in appreciation before wolfing it down. I told you he was sneaky.
I picked up the glass of wine and gulped some more. ‘Do you think Aleesha’s going to try it on with Brad?’ I asked Marmalade. ‘Meow once for “yes” and twice for “no”.’
Marmalade looked up, seeming to think about the question for second. ‘Meow.’
Grr. ‘That’s exactly what I was thinking.’ I was reaching for the bottle again when Hacker phoned.
‘Yo,’ I said wearily.
‘Yo. You OK?’
‘Mmm.’ I swallowed more wine. ‘I’m getting drunk. I’ll be better when I’ve finished the bottle.’
‘You worried about Brad being with Aleesha?’
‘No!’ I gave him my best shocked voice.
‘You don’t have to worry about him. He loves you more than anything. He can’t wait to marry you, you know.’
‘Uh-huh.’ I knew that. Deep down, I really did. But then, didn’t Steve say he loved Jessie, too, and he cheated on her. The thing was, you could never really be sure, could you? It wasn’t like you could crawl inside someone’s head and examine their thoughts. Anyway, I didn’t want to think about it anymore; it would fry my brain and turn me mad. Well, madder than I already was.
‘Tia told me to ask whether you want to do a spell with her to solve the case and get Aleesha out of your life for good.’
Tempting. ‘Hold that thought. I might have to resort to that in a few days if I haven’t got anywhere. Have you found anything out?’
‘None of the people you mentioned bought any of the knickers online, but I guess they could’ve got a friend or relative to do it for them. They’re sold on hundreds of websites all over the world, and someone could just go and buy them from a shop with cash, so, it’s probably a dead end.’
I pouted to myself. Damn.
‘Curtis Jones, the plumber, declared himself bankrupt after Aleesha sued him about the sex video, so he might still be a tad pissed off with her. I looked into Tracy White, and she’s now got a criminal record for stealing Aleesha’s phone. She hasn’t worked since the incident, and I think it would be pretty hard to get a job as a cleaner if your clients know you’ve got sticky fingers.’
‘Very true. What else?’
‘Jessie hasn’t managed to get another TV show since she got fired from Real Women, so she’s probably not too happy, either. Stig’s been out of the country on a tour with The Hell Devils for the last six months, so he can probably be crossed off the list. And Chris is now happily engaged to an American model and living in the States, so I think it’s highly unlikely he’s still interested enough in Aleesha to send her threatening mail.’
‘What about Felicia? Did you find anything out about her?’
‘Not much. She lives with her parents, her Dad’s a vicar, she’s in her final year at university, and she hasn’t bought any knickers online or anything else that might be interesting.’
So, that explained the heathen comment. Felicia could be a happy-clappy religious fantatic, which might be a motive. Aleesha had to be breaking a hell of a lot of moral laws. ‘Thanks.’ I finished the last mouthful of my wine and poured more.
‘Do you want some company? I could come round with Tia.’
‘No, you two love birds have a good night. I’ll just drink another bottle.’
‘OK, if you’re sure. Yo.’
‘Yo.’ I hung up and dialled Brad.
‘Speak.’
‘In a land, far, far away, there was once a beautiful princess called Amber. She was about to marry her handsome prince, when all of a sudden, a plastic serving wench rode into town on a donkey covered with fleas and—’
‘Foxy, have you been drinking?’
I stared at the almost empty wine bottle. ‘Yes. I’m doing a good job at polishing off the wine store.’
‘I miss you.’ His voice turned husky.
My heart did an excited loop-the-loop. ‘Me, too. It’s really quiet here without you.’
In the background, Aleesha screeched, ‘Braaaaaaaad! Where are you? Nathan’s made you nettle tea, and I’ve got strawberry jam for you.’
I pulled the phone away from my ear and glared at it before putting it back. I could understand the tea, since Brad always drank the herbal crap that smelled like boiled up beetles. But the jam? What was she planning on doing with that?
‘She’s driving me mad,’ he said.
‘You and me both. What’s the jam for?’ I felt myself inflating with anger, Hulk style.
‘I dread to think.’
‘Well, you must know,’ I said accusingly. ‘Why jam? You don’t even eat it?’
‘I don’t know, honestly. She’s definitely not getting near me with it, Foxy. Trust me.’ His voice softened.
He was right. This was just a job for him. That was all. And what kind of marriage wasn’t based on trust? I deflated and told him about Steve and Felicia, and what Hacker came up with so far.
‘So, no further forward, then,’ he sighed.
‘It could be anybody.’
‘I still think she’s doing it herself. You need to get me out of here,’ he whispered into the phone. ‘If it’s not Aleesha trying to jump on me, I’ve got Nathan, too.’
‘So, what are the sleeping arrangements over there tonight?’
‘I’m in one of the many guest rooms, and I’m locking the door and barricading it with some heavy artillery.’
I chuckled at that. ‘Well, I’ll be here in our big old bed, playing with my pussy.’ I glanced at Marmalade.
He let out a growl then, but it was a lusty one, not a jealous one. ‘I’m imagining it already.’
‘Braaaaaaaaaaaaaad,’ Aleesha called out. ‘Where are youuuuuuuuuu? The jam’s going cold.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘You’d better go. I can’t stand that screeching.’
I pictured him rolling his eyes, too, as he said, ‘Me, neither. Night, Foxy.’
‘Night, Braaaaaaaaaaaaad,’ I said, mimicking Aleesha’s voice.
I’d just hung up when Dad phoned. It was like British Telecom Central tonight.
‘Hi, Dad.’ I scooped up Marmalade and set him on my knee, stroking him behind the ear.
‘Hi. No news to report from Lace. Your mum and I staked it out all day and didn’t see Dr Spork or anyone else buying chocolate knickers. Mum bought six pairs herself, though, to take to Vegas with us.’
Omigod. It sounded like they were having a better sex life than Brad and me at the moment. Even Sabre was getting more action in the romance department than I was, and that was just beyond bizarre!
‘Thanks for sharing that.’ I scrunche
d up my face.
Marmalade burped. His sensitive feline ears probably didn’t want to hear about Mum and Dad’s bedroom activities, either.
‘I’ll go back tomorrow as soon as they open and see what happens.’
‘OK, thanks, Dad. Goodnight.’
I took Marmalade and the rest of the wine to bed and passed out around midnight, but I couldn’t sleep properly. The bed felt cold. As I tossed and turned until the early hours, all I could think about was Aleesha creeping into Brad’s bed in the middle of the night, smearing jam all over him and licking it off.
Chapter 7
I was up bright and early the next day. No, scratch that. I wasn’t feeling bright; I was feeling grumpy again. My appetite was still in limbo, so I downed two strong hazelnut coffees, thinking that at least I’d get some protein from the hazelnuts. It was still too early to see Jessie, or Curtis, the amateur porn video star, so after feeding Marmalade, I headed to the office.
Hacker was already there when I arrived, clacking away on his keyboard, as usual. Today his hoodie said ‘Illest’. Was that even a word? And what did it mean? Maybe the person who went to sex shcool could tell me.
‘Yo.’ I dumped my rucksack on my desk and flopped onto the chair.
‘Yo, you look like crap.’
‘Thanks.’
He grinned. ‘So, how’s the case going?’
‘It’s going nowhere fast.’ I frowned. ‘Have you managed to dig anything else up for me?’
‘Nothing that will probably help.’
I swivelled in the chair, thinking. It squeaked loudly as my swivelling got faster. ‘I’m pretty sure Steve isn’t involved. Jessie has a good motive and threatened to kill Aleesha. Tracy and Curtis may have had good reasons to threaten her, but I won’t know more until I talk to them. Felicia could be a runner, too. Or any other members of the public who hate Aleesha. If I can’t catch someone out actually buying the knickers, then I’ll have to stake out the suspects we have to see if they take a little trip to the post office.’
‘And how are you going to follow all of them at once?’