Desperate Play (Off the Grid: FBI Series Book 3)

by Barbara Freethy

  "You okay?" Wyatt asked, giving her a concerned look.

  "I don't think I'm going to be okay for a long time. I'm just thinking about everything you told me, trying to figure out if any of it makes sense. It doesn't. The Noelle I knew wouldn't, couldn't, have done what you're suggesting."

  "Well, maybe she didn't."

  "You're just saying that to make me feel better. You don't believe it."

  "I actually haven't made a decision about Noelle. And you shouldn't, either. We need more information. Hopefully Carter can give us something else to go on."

  "Hopefully," she echoed, but she wasn't feeling overly optimistic.

  Carter hadn't even been helpful when it came to talking about funeral arrangements; she doubted he was going to tell them anything that would help them find Noelle's killer. But she was eager to hear what he had to say. He'd been the person closest to Noelle. If anyone could shed light on her life outside of work the past few months, it would be him.

  Fifteen minutes later, they pulled up in front of a series of townhouses in Hermosa Beach, a city just a few miles south of Venice Beach where Noelle had lived. When Carter opened the door to let them in, he didn't look any better than he had the day before. In fact, he looked worse. He wore black track pants and a gray T-shirt and had two-day's growth of beard on his jaw. His face was pale, and his eyes were a little too bright, as if he'd had a lot of caffeine.

  "Hi, Carter." She felt like she should give him a hug, but he wasn't the kind of person who looked like he wanted that kind of connection. "Thanks for meeting with us. You remember Wyatt."

  Carter nodded, as he waved them into his home. "I can't believe Noelle's mother just left town the way she did. How could she just abandon her daughter, after everything Noelle did to try to help her get back on her feet?"

  "It shocked me, too," she said, following Carter into the living room.

  His townhome felt new, with sleek hardwood floors in the entry and a plush rug under the couch and chairs in the living room. The kitchen boasted cherry cabinets and black appliances and the adjacent dining room offered a glass table and a view of the palm trees lining the nearby beach. There was also a balcony with a grouping of cozy chairs and a barbecue. That felt more like Noelle.

  She looked around for more signs of her friend and found a few: the bright yellow coffee mug on the counter, the now wilting flowers in a vase by the couch, the fashion magazines on the coffee table. Noelle might not have put her stamp on the masculine brown leather couch and matching recliner, the golf photos on the walls, or the law books in the bookcase, but she'd definitely left pieces of herself in Carter's home. Those pieces seemed jarring, though, as if they didn't really belong, as if Noelle had not really belonged here.

  Carter was certainly different from the long-haired, hard-drinking, musicians Noelle had often dated. Frowning, Avery couldn't help wondering what she was missing, why Noelle and Carter's relationship just felt so…off.

  She wandered over to the vase filled with flowers, emotion putting a knot in her throat as her gaze came to rest on the sunflower.

  "This was her favorite flower," she said, fingering the petals. "Noelle liked to lift her face to the sun, feel the heat on her skin. She felt like the sunflower did the same thing. It opened itself up to the light."

  Silence followed her words. When she looked up, both men were staring at her with varying expressions of alarm and concern. She dropped her hand. "Could I have some coffee?"

  "Uh, sure," Carter said, relieved by the unemotional question. "I actually just made another pot. Wyatt?"

  "I'm good," Wyatt said. "Can I use your bathroom?"

  "Yeah, down the hall on the left," Carter replied, as he moved into the kitchen.

  As Wyatt left the room, she suddenly realized the bathroom was just an excuse. He wanted to take a look around Carter's apartment. And she could help by providing a distraction.

  She moved into the kitchen and slid onto a stool in front of the island. Carter set a mug of coffee in front of her.

  "You want anything in it?" he asked. "Although, I think I'm out of cream."

  "Black is good. How are you doing today, Carter?"

  He leaned against the opposite counter, crossing his arms. "Not so great. I'm sorry I ran out on you yesterday. When I was in the mortuary, I couldn't breathe."

  "It was difficult for me, too."

  He gave her a sad smile. "But you did it anyway. Noelle always told me that you were the strong one. You were her anchor. Like the weight on the end of a balloon string. You stopped her from flying away."

  His words hit her hard, because she could hear Noelle's voice saying those same exact things. Her eyes watered, but she blinked back tears. There was no more time for crying. "I used to think that we stopped being friends because I held her back, because she wanted to soar, and she couldn't do that with me."

  "She told me she was a wild child. Frankly, I didn't know why she went out with me in the first place. I knew I wasn't her usual type, but she was so attractive, so bright and appealing. When she was in the room, I couldn't look away. Somehow, I found the courage to ask her out. And she said yes. I have to say I was stunned. I didn't think we'd make it past the first date, but we did. We had more in common than we thought."

  "What did you have in common?" she couldn't help asking, then saw him flinch. "I'm just trying to understand. I'm sorry if that was insensitive."

  "No, I get it. Most people wouldn't see us together. But when we were alone, we were in sync. Noelle loved her job. She said it was the first time she'd ever felt like she was really contributing to the greater good. And I felt the same way. We talked about work all the time. She supported my ambitions. In fact, she gave me the courage to ask for a promotion, more responsibility, greater access to the key players in the company. Without her, I probably wouldn't have gone for it."

  "That's great. Did you get it?"

  "I'm supposed to find out tomorrow. I don't know what's going to happen now. The FBI stopped by this morning. They had a lot of questions for me. They think I had something to do with her death, but I didn't. I loved Noelle. She loved me."

  "Did the FBI tell you that her apartment was burned down yesterday?"

  He nodded. "I couldn't believe it."

  "Did they also tell you that someone was looking for something in Noelle's apartment before that happened?"

  "They mentioned that. They asked me a lot of questions about her life—who she spent time with, who she talked to on the phone, whether she kept anything here. They wanted to search the place, but I had to draw the line somewhere. I'm all for cooperating, but I'm a lawyer; I know when someone is putting a case together, and I'm a target." He stopped talking. "Where's Wyatt?"

  "He's just using the restroom."

  "Is he? Or is he looking around?"

  As Carter straightened, ready to investigate, Wyatt came around the corner.

  "You know, I think I'll have that coffee after all," Wyatt said. Taking in the tension in the room, he added, "What did I miss?"

  "Carter said the FBI came by this morning," she replied. "He's afraid they are going to try to pin Noelle's death on him."

  "And I am innocent," Carter proclaimed. "I would never kill anyone and certainly not the woman I loved."

  "They're just going down the checklist of usual suspects," Wyatt said. "If they had any real evidence, you'd have been arrested."

  "What is your involvement in all this?" Carter asked, giving Wyatt a suspicious look. "Isn't your job just to sit behind a monitor and check for intruders at Nova Star?"

  "It's a bit more complicated than that," Wyatt said, not taking offense at Carter's rude comment.

  "Wyatt is trying to help me figure out who killed Noelle," she interrupted. "He's also protecting Nova Star and its employees, one of whom is you. He suggested we come over here today so that we could alert you to the fact that you might be in danger because Noelle spent time here, and whoever was looking for something at her apartment mi
ght come here next. So, you might not want to attack him for doing his job and being concerned about you."

  Carter frowned. "Sorry. I'm not myself today. I appreciate your concern. I can't imagine what Noelle could have left behind that someone would be looking for. I thought the attack was random. Now it sounds like something else was going on."

  "Did you notice Noelle talking to anyone new, being on her phone a lot, acting out of the ordinary?" Wyatt asked.

  "No. But the last week or so, I was working late, because the upcoming launch had tripled our workload, and I wanted to show I was ready to take on a bigger role. Noelle and I were missing each other a lot. But she was fine with it. She told me she wanted to spend more time with you, Avery, so she was going to ask you to go to the pier with her Friday night. I told her to have fun." His voice broke. "That's the last thing I said to her."

  She bit down on her lip as emotions threatened to swamp her once again. "She was having fun. She had cotton candy, and she looked like a little kid, eating that pink, sugary confection."

  "I can't imagine why she would have wanted to eat that," Carter said, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

  No, he couldn't have imagined it, she thought. No matter what Carter had said about him and Noelle being in sync and having a lot in common, she still wondered if Carter had really known Noelle at all.

  But maybe that wasn't his fault. Maybe Noelle hadn't let him see the real her. Perhaps she'd had other reasons for spending time with Carter.

  Shaking her head, she realized she was going down a path she didn't want to go, but she couldn't turn around just yet. "You said Noelle really liked her job and that she also wanted to move up. Do you know if she was talking to anyone about a transfer?"

  "She spent a lot of time with Kim in media relations. I know she was doing some work for her, but she never said what it was. Press stuff, I guess. She'd have been good at that. She was great with people. Her phone was always going off with texts and calls."

  "Really? Because I saw her phone at the police station, and she didn't have any texts on there, none with you, and only a couple with me, setting up our plan for Friday night. Did she have another phone, Carter?"

  "I—I don't know. I don't think so. It had that yellow polka-dot case."

  "That's right, it did," she said, realizing the phone she'd seen at the station had been in a simple black case, but she'd seen the other phone numerous times before. "She must have had two phones. Maybe whoever searched her apartment was looking for her other phone."

  "Can we look around for it here?" Wyatt asked.

  "No," Carter said sharply, shaking his head. "I don't know what's going on, but I know you two have more information than I do, and I don't like it. I will look for the phone, and if I find it, I'll turn it over to the FBI."

  "What are you afraid of?" Wyatt challenged.

  "Nothing. But this is my apartment. Noelle was my girlfriend, and this is my call. You both need to go."

  "Hang on," she said, sliding off the stool. "We're on the same side, Carter."

  "It doesn't feel that way."

  "Well, it's the truth. And we still need to talk about a memorial for Noelle. Her friends at work are going to want to say good-bye, to celebrate her life, and you need to be a part of that."

  "I told you I'd give you some money. How much do you want?"

  "I don't want money; I want your input. You just said you loved Noelle. Don't you want to give her an appropriate send-off?"

  "An appropriate send-off?" he asked in bewilderment. "I don't even know what that is. She's gone, Avery. She's not coming back. There's no chance to say good-bye. It's done. Do whatever you want. And if you need money, I'll chip in. But I can't plan anything. I can't."

  She heard desperation in his voice and saw anger and sadness in his eyes, but there was some other emotion at play, and she didn't know what it was.

  "I'll show you out," Carter added, waving them toward the door.

  "Carter—"

  "I'm sorry, Avery. I know I'm being an ass, but I can't do this right now. I will look through Noelle's things. I'll tell you if I find anything."

  "Okay, thanks." As they stepped outside, he slammed the door behind them. "That was weird," she said, looking at Wyatt. "Did you find anything on your way to the bathroom?"

  "I didn't see a phone with a yellow polka-dot case, not that I was looking for that, but I think it would have stood out. When I left you and Carter, he was being cooperative. That changed fast."

  "It did," she said, as she got into the car. "As soon as Carter started talking about the FBI grilling him and wanting to search his apartment, he suddenly realized you'd been gone awhile, and it freaked him out. He's hiding something and acting crazy. One minute I think he's grief-stricken and the next minute I feel like he's just angry and pissed off that Noelle's death has inconvenienced his life. He says he loves her, but he wants nothing to do with her memorial. Before all this I thought he was stable and a little boring. I was wrong."

  "From what I've heard you say about Noelle, it doesn't seem like they go together."

  "She said he reminded her of me and that she needed someone to hold her feet to the ground. If she loved me for that, maybe she would love him for that, too."

  "Was that really why she loved you? Because I think there was a lot more to your friendship than that. You weren't just her anchor—you were her friend. You believed in her. You cared about her. You wanted the best for her. You even went out of your way to get her a job after she'd cut all ties to you for years. Those kinds of friends don't come around very often, and I think Noelle knew that."

  "Thanks," she said, feeling a little teary at his words. "For saying all that. I'd like to believe our friendship was real, but there's a part of me now that isn't sure Noelle didn't use me to get into Nova Star. Maybe I helped start this whole security breach. Anyway…Noelle had things at Carter's place. Anyone who was in contact with her probably would have known about their relationship. If whoever killed her is still looking for something she had, then why haven't they gone to Carter's home? Or do you think they just haven't gotten there yet? I don't know if he understood that he could be in real danger."

  "If Carter is involved, then he would not have any reason to run, Avery. And if he doesn't understand what danger he might be in, then he's not as smart as I think he is."

  "I can't imagine Carter stabbing Noelle. That doesn't feel right."

  "He didn't have to do it himself to be involved. It's also possible that he and Noelle were working together, and he had no idea she was going to be taken out. I think part of his anger was covering up fear."

  "It could just be fear that he won't get his promotion," she said bitterly. "Who would be worried about that at a time like this?"

  "His fear went deeper than that."

  "Maybe. I keep hoping I'll get answers, and all I get are more questions."

  "The answers are coming." He started the engine. "Let's go to work. I want to check Noelle's desk, and you said you had something to do, right?"

  "Yes, I do. And I'm sure that the police or the FBI already looked in Noelle's desk."

  "I'm sure, too," he agreed. "But we're going to be there anyway, so why not check it out?"

  She let out a sigh, not sure how it was going to feel to see Noelle's empty chair and know she would never sit in it again. "I hope I can do this."

  "You can," Wyatt said, drawing her gaze to his. "You're stronger than you think."

  "I guess we're going to find out."

  Thirteen

  When they entered the lobby of Nova Star on Sunday afternoon, Jed Collins, an older security guard with dark-gray hair and bright-blue eyes, gave them a welcoming smile from behind the front counter. Wyatt liked Jed. He was in his late sixties, but he was an ex-cop, who had a good eye for detail. They didn't work together often, since Wyatt spent most of his time on the fifth floor in the security center, and Jed was usually at one of the entrances.

  "Ms. Caldwell, I'm very
sorry for your loss," Jed said. "I know you and Ms. Price were friends. It's horrific what happened to her."

  "Thank you, Jed. I appreciate that," Avery said, accepting Jed's warm hand clasp.

  "I don't know if her family needs any help with expenses, but if they do, please let me know."

  "I will do that. We're still trying to figure things out."

  "It's shocking. Ms. Price was such a happy, outgoing person. She always stopped and said hello. Of course, most of the time, it was because she was looking for her badge in that big, messy bag of hers," he added with a sad smile. "But still, she was a sweetheart. She even brought me sunflowers to give my wife when she had her foot surgery."

  "I didn't know that," Avery said.

  "She said she loved working here, never felt more at home, like we were all family. I can't believe someone killed her. Do they know who did it?"

  "Not yet," she said tightly.

  "We should get going," he put in, sensing that Avery wasn't quite ready to hear a lot of condolences from well-meaning employees. "Everything quiet around here, Jed? The police or FBI been around?"

  "Yesterday there was a lot of action. Haven't seen anyone today. Engineering is busy with the launch coming up, but the rest of the building is empty. I hope you two don't have to work too long today."

  "Not too long," Avery said, handing over her bag as Jed waved her through the security X-ray scanner.

  There were three scanners in the lobby as well as scanners at two other entrances to the large building. The engineering building and science labs were in an adjacent wing that had a separate entrance and additional security procedures for employees or guests to enter. But none of that security would make a difference if there was a mole inside the building.

  Wyatt placed his phone and wallet in a small container and made his way through the scanner. Then they headed across the slick marble floors, past the display of model rockets that soared two stories high, the gift shop that was now closed, and the press room that would be filled with reporters starting tomorrow.