A Model Murder (The Dead Ex Files Book 2)

by Claire Kane

  “Like it?” Jack asked.

  Lacey nodded stupidly.

  “Then you’re going to love this.” He snapped his fingers, and a fire roared to life in a real stone hearth on the far end of the living room. Lacey spun, eyes wide and jaw slack. Her host laughed. “You should see your face,” he said. He snapped again, and the fire went out. Then he crowed like a rooster, and the fire kicked on again.

  Lacey narrowed her eyes, and, after a little searching, noticed he was hiding his left hand. “Nice try, smart guy,” she said. “Let’s see what’s behind your back.”

  He grinned and stepped aside, revealing a switch. “You’re just too smart for your own good. Can’t hide anything from your gorgeous eyes.”

  “Oh, listen to him flatter you, baby girl,” Nainai crooned. “He’s got the tongue of the devil, that one.” Her eyes twinkled. “I think that means I ought to keep him.”

  Lacey rolled her eyes. “You’ll have to excuse my grandmother. She can be a bit, shall we say, overly flirtatious.”

  “I made out with Bruce Lee, little girl,” Nainai objected. “This old gal still has it.”

  Jack’s laugh was a happy sound, and Lacey felt the tension begin to drain out of her. “No, she’s wonderful. I’m happy to have her here. I’d like you both to stay as long as is necessary. In fact, if it’s any comfort, let me show you my security system.” He made for the front door but Lacey intercepted him.

  “No, that’s okay, Jack,” she said, meeting his eyes, then quickly glancing away, feeling herself blush like a schoolgirl. “We trust you.

  “I think we really ought to get Nainai to bed. She’s had a pretty harrowing night, don’t you think?”

  Jack studied her for a moment, an odd smile on his face. He flicked his eyes at Nainai, then back to Lacey. “Think a couple of young kids need a chaperone, Nainai?” he asked.

  Nainai hooted once with laughter. “If she doesn’t plant one on you soon, I’m going to have to do it for her.”

  Jack laughed again, and Lacey’s face flushed hotly, though she couldn’t help but giggle. With that, they put Nainai to bed. Lacey was decidedly pleased with the accommodations, including the low bed and walk-in shower. Tucking the dear old woman up to her neck in what Lacey was sure was 400-thread-count silk sheets, she kissed Nainai’s cheek. “I love you, she said.

  “I love you too, baby girl.” And just like that, a bit of her memory faded. She eyed the room suspiciously before saying, “I’m so happy you’re a reporter.”

  Lacey paused, her mouth drawn open. She simply said, “Why’s that?”

  “So you can afford a lovely room like this for me.” Nainai smiled childlike, and then added, “Still not enough Asian inspiration.”

  Rubbing the white hair off Nainai’s forehead, Lacey said, “I’m happy you like it, but this is my friend Jack’s house.”

  There was a faraway look on Nainai's face before she said, “Who’s Jack?”

  “I’ll have you meet tomorrow,” Lacey said sweetly, and switched off the light.

  Dementia was a mystery, making some nights harder than others. Tomorrow, maybe she’d remember who Jack was, and without any prompting at all. Making her way to the kitchen, Lacey wondered if Nainai had even the faintest memory of meeting Jack from the mall’s food court, the other day.

  With Jack having an early meeting the next morning, there was no time for staying up late, kissing by candlelight to the taste of sweet champagne. Besides, her worry over what had happened to Victor would keep her from enjoying any more fun distractions. What had happened to him?

  THIRTY-FOUR

  “You look absolutely stunning, Lacey Ling.” Jack held out a hand for her to accept.

  She emerged from the black Porsche in a red silk dress purposely falling off her shoulders. Happy that she’d succeeded at twisting her long hair into a pretty French twist, she knew she could take the compliment seriously. She hadn’t been this done up since KZTB’s 30th Anniversary of Good Day Seattle. The cool evening prickling her skin, she was happy to hurry up the steps with Jack, leaving a valet to appropriately park his car in a farther away spot.

  The contemporary appeal of the Hall at Fauntleroy was beautifully juxtaposed by its classically exposed red brick, which gleamed in the setting sun. From somewhere close by, the marine scent of the Puget Sound salted the air. Lacey didn’t have a moment to even think to breathe it in, however, since the media were poised, filming and flashing pictures as attendees arrived. The drama surrounding Trend had the dubious benefit of making them the “hot couple,” and they spent at least as much time in front of cameras as the mayor and his wife. “Jack” and “Lacey” were called out so much it made Lacey half-expect a red-carpet and Hollywood stars.

  From somewhere in the blare of flashes and confusing shouts, one voice yelled above the rest, “You’re next, slut!”

  Jack didn’t even blink but the words pounded against Lacey’s temples. “Did you hear that?” she asked, her eyes flashing around the scene at the many clamoring bodies, not seeing any familiar face.

  “Hear what?” he asked, offering a wave at a camera crew.

  “Nothing,” she muttered to herself. People could be so heartless, she thought, shaking her head.

  The moment the doormen opened the front doors, Lacey happily slipped inside, into the warmth and away from the public. Jack gave Lacey his elbow to hold once more, and she was surprised by the great comfort that offered her. Now under the lights of the grand charity event, she had a good view of her date. Looking up at him, he met her eyes, the greenness in them deep under his brows. He smiled and said, “Thank you again for saying yes to being my date.”

  “Thank you for asking me,” she said, catching a hint of his cool-scented cologne from his tux’s lapel.

  They were quickly ushered by a man greeting them by name. “Follow me to your table, if you will,” the young man said, taking them into the dining area. White Christmas lights adorned the many tall windows. Trees strategically placed in corners were also wrapped in the lights. At the head of the room was a set-up stage with a podium, the podium bearing the sign with the name of the event—The Inaugural Winter Mayoral Ball. They were escorted to a light-blue linened table to the rear-left of the hall, and Jack pulled out Lacey’s chair.

  She gladly sat, and as Jack took his seat, he apologized. “It’s not the best spot, but I suppose I should be grateful for the invite at all.” He picked up his navy cloth napkin and draped it over his slacks. The rest of the hall was filling up quite fast. Many were standing, mingling between tables. Her research earlier that night showed the cost of the plates was out of this world—for a good cause, of course. Lacey felt fortunate Jack could spend a thousand dollars on each plate without it being a burden. The last thing she’d want to be to a man was a burden. A waiter came over with a wine menu right away, and Jack ordered for them both. As the waiter moved away, he set his hand over hers and smiled gently. “I have to say, despite what it might seem, I’m not a very social person. I keep to myself a lot.”

  Lacey nodded. Even in his quiet moments, however, he had an air of calm confidence. “I’m very much the same,” she said.

  Glancing over the many utensils, plates and various glasses, Lacey felt at home. If there was one thing she knew for sure, it was table etiquette. So, when the festivities began and she was given her Caesar salad with juicy cherry tomatoes and fresh grated parmesan aplenty, she happily grabbed her salad fork and elegantly dug in.

  Lacey caught Jack staring at her. She turned to him, still chewing her bite. He was so very handsome—his cheekbones, his jawline, those green eyes that had an amused sparkle. He said, “I’m sorry I haven’t had more quality time to spend with you. This last week, with you at my place—I know you want to get a place of your own soon, but… I have to admit, it’s been really nice having you so close. And I’m happy your mouth is full, otherwise I know you’d protest.” He lightly chuckled. “But I want you to know how truly interested I am in where t
hings are going… between us.”

  Chewing a juicy cherry tomato, Lacey nearly choked in surprise. She turned her face away from Jack as she, as covertly as possible, coughed it up. She was suddenly feeling like her chandelier earrings were dragging across the floor, and her heart rapped unpleasantly. “I’m sorry,” she said, apologizing.

  Putting her head in her hands, she closed her eyes, trying to compose herself. Her thoughts became hazy, and she wondered if maybe she’d just had some bad dressing. I can’t be that scared of commitment, she scolded herself.

  “Are you okay?” Jack’s voice entered her mind. “Was it what I said?” His hand touched her back.

  She opened her eyes and took a sip of water. The feeling passed, and she was back to normal. Shaking her head, she said, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what overcame me. That was bizarre.”

  “Hm,” he simply said, and there was silence for the rest of the meal.

  In the wake of dinner, tables were quickly cleared out for dancing. Lacey’s head on Jack’s shoulder, she was still puzzled by her reaction from earlier at dinner. They swayed to a slow song played by a live band.

  “What do you think of me? Of us?” Jack spoke into her ear.

  Lacey liked the feeling of Jack’s warm cheek against hers. “I like you,” she said.

  Jack pulled her in tighter, and they swayed together, just letting those words linger. He finally asked with a tentative pause, “I have something to show you. Come with me out to the patio.”

  “Uh...” Lacey peered out the nearby window. It was dark out. No other guests were outside. “It’s a cold night.”

  Breaking their embrace, Jack slipped his jacket’s suit off and draped it over Lacey’s shoulders. “I’ll keep you warm. It will be quick.”

  Holding hands, the two slipped into the hall and out an exit. Even with Jack’s suit coat, Lacey shivered, the air turning her breath into white fog. “What is it you want to show me?” she asked.

  He brushed a hand under her chin and leaned down for a kiss. It was warm and heart-fluttering. He slowly released her bottom lip, and said, “Okay, I’m ready now.” Jack slipped a long black box out of his pants pocket, and Lacey immediately thought of that scene from Pretty Woman, where Richard Gere snaps a jewelry box at Julia Robert’s fingers, and she does her signature laugh. This was different, though. “But…” she stumbled, speechless. “You don’t… have… Wh-what is this?”

  He opened it up to reveal a necklace of multiple sapphires. “That is beautiful,” she said, raising a hand to her chest in concern, “but way too expensive.”

  Before she could protest further, Jack slipped behind her and put it around her neck. He stepped back around to take a good look at her. “It’s not nearly as beautiful as you, Lacey Ling, and I’ve made beauty my business.” He gently spun her around and met her eyes. “I’ve made it a point not to mix business and pleasure. I have a very strict personal policy against getting involved with my models. But the more I’ve gotten to know you…” and he looked away, his breathy steaming in the air.

  At last, he continued. “I’ve been unable to sleep. I told myself, ‘Jack, policies have their time and their place.” He looked at her again. “I feel like a different person around you, Lacey. A better man. I-I haven’t been able to concentrate on much of anything since I met you except for wondering when I’d see you again. I don’t see that changing.”

  He blew out a breath and raked a hand through his hair. “Geez,” he said with a little chuckle, “It’s never been this hard before.”

  Lacey felt something quiver inside. “Go on.”

  “I know it’s fast, but… but I’d like it very much if you and I saw each other exclusively. Will you… be mine?”

  That was a surprise.

  “Jack, I don’t know what to say.” This time the haziness and heaviness didn’t overcome her. She was simply stunned, and thinking about Victor, oddly. How she’d known him for just a few months before he was ready to propose. How he seemed like the perfect match so early on. How he had wooed her in a tux at a high-class social event, too, and she had given “love at first sight” a chance. Suddenly, she wished he were standing beside her, making snarky remarks about her date, just to know Victor was actually there.

  Bursting her memory bubble, Jack asked, “What do you say, Lacey? Will you be mine?” When she paused to find her tongue, his eyes glinted with a knowing sadness, like he was already expecting the worst.

  Tilting her head, her long bangs fell across her cheek like a curtain closing on a play. “I can’t,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

  Surprisingly, his eyes turned cold, his face darkening. He pressed his lips together for a long moment as he looked down. When his gaze met hers, he said, “I don’t get it. I thought we had so much in common. I thought it’d be a no-brainer, that you’d automatically say yes. It’s not a marriage proposal, Lacey. I simply want you all to myself, and then maybe down the road…”

  She shook her head, and put a little distance between them. “I’m sorry. I’m not ready for a commitment of any kind. I’m sorry if anything I’ve done has led you to believe that. If so, then it’s my fault.”

  “Yes, yes it is,” he said, tilting his strong jaw. “I took you out on a fabulous first date, fast-tracked you right into my agency, invited you and your grandmother into my home to live, and made you my ‘plus one’ at the biggest charity event of the year. Do you know how much I’ve invested in you in this short amount of time? And you still say no?”

  Fingering the back clasp of her necklace, she felt embarrassment and sadness both wash over her. “You’re right,” she said, struggling to get it off. “I don’t know what I’m thinking.”

  “Is there anything I can do to knock some sense into you about this?”

  Those words, both classless and vulgar, grated on every one of Lacey’s nerves. Giving up on the reluctant gold clasp, she shook her head. “Excuse me, Jack, but this is not a matter of you needing to ‘knock’ sense into me.” His face was hard and immovable as she continued. “Either a woman feels ready for something or she doesn’t. I don’t.” Her heart felt a dull pang over what she was about to utter, but there wasn’t really any alternative now. “I think the best thing, under the circumstances, would be for us to stop seeing each other.”

  He gave an incredulous guffaw, releasing a large cloud of icy air. “That’s rich,” he said. “Wow.”

  Lacey slipped his suit coat off, and handed it back to Jack, who wrung it slightly while gazing down at the ground. She folded her arms against the frigid air. Not seeing any signs that Jack had anything else to say, she pivoted in her heels and headed for the entrance.

  “Lacey—wait,” he blurted as she pushed through the door. “Wait.” He jogged over to her. “Listen, I don’t know what just came over me, but I don’t like it. I’m sorry. Let’s just pretend we never had a… disagreement. Keep the necklace, stay at my place. We don’t need to push things to exclusivity. I see that. I was being a jerk.”

  Still fuming, Lacey just walked into the building to where it was warmer. “You were being more than a jerk,” she said. An usher by the front door eyed them but said nothing. How she wished she had her car to take her home. But to where? Jack’s house, of all places? Knowing Nainai was there, too, settled in for the night, she could feel nothing other than trapped.

  “I’m sorry,” Jack said again, touching her arm, but she moved away. “Hey, do you think we can at least pretend to enjoy the rest of the evening? I’ll feel like a complete screw-up if we left the mayor’s party, especially since some of the proceeds go to the families of Trend’s victims.”

  Finally, he'd said something that made a little sense. If for no other reason, she could stay for that. She sucked in a deep breath and said, “I’ll do it. For them, not you.”

  As they entered, the mayor was clinking a wine glass at head of the hall. Instead of using the microphone, he called out. “There they are, right now.”

  All eyes turne
d to Lacey and Jack’s reappearance.

  “Please, join me up here.” The mayor waved them over, his white hair and pearly teeth gleaming. He picked up a framed something from a table beside him.

  Jack clasped Lacey’s hand and put on a smile, leading her past everyone to the front. As they approached, Lacey suddenly felt heady. And then, she realized that, right there in front of the massive crowd of philanthropists, she was about to see another one of Victor’s visions.

  You leave me in the lurch, she thought bitterly, then have the gall to embarrass me in public? But the vision came on anyway, and she gave herself to it, if only because it meant she could be with Victor in some way. Clapping faded into a light murmur as the view before her suddenly changed from regal ladies and gentleman smiling to some meager room with a young woman in her underwear, on a bed, chained to the headboard. The blond hair to her shoulders was unkempt, as if it hadn’t been brushed in days, her eyes holding a glint of resigned sadness.

  Lacey, Victor whispered to her mind. I’m so sorry I had to go like I did, but I believe in what you’re doing, and you needed to see this. Maybe you can still help these girls, even if I can’t help you. Do you know who this girl is?

  Yes, Lacey said. Shayla. It felt like the right answer. Shayla was alive, but not unharmed; Lacey knew she could do something about that if she were smart and quick, and that washed away any embarrassment over her lapse. If she were on the floor in front of the mayor and half of Seattle’s finest, so be it.

  Yes, Victor said, and suddenly Lacey could feel her ex’s great grief and disgust ripple through her spirit. And carrying those emotions on top of her own, made her heavy like never before. In her mind, she was actually starting to sob as she watched the vision before her, of a young woman, hope and a sense of worth gone.