Fatal Bond

by Gemma Halliday

  He shook his head. "Nothing. They just said to have the five million ready and they'd contact me later with details of where to send it."

  "What about Apple?" I said, changing gears.

  He frowned. "Who?"

  "Apple. The dancer you hired for your party."

  He shrugged nonchalantly. "There were a lot of dancers here."

  "How many?"

  "I dunno. Maybe four. Five?"

  "Did you meet all the dancers at The Spotted Pony?" I asked.

  I could practically feel Stephanie cringing beside me at the mention of the strip club. Clearly she was familiar with the name.

  Wendell shook his head. "No. I mean, a couple of them there, yeah, But I meet girls all over."

  "Apple is tall and brunette," Caleigh added. She pulled up a photo of the girl on her phone and showed it to Wendell.

  Wendell looked at it and chewed the inside of his cheek.

  "You and some friends had a private dance with her," I prompted, remembering what Candy had told me.

  Recognition finally dawned. "Yeah, I remember the brunette. She was cute."

  "Where did she go after your party?"

  He blinked at me. "How should I know?"

  "What time did she leave?"

  Again with the blank stare. "Look, I don't chip all my party guests so I can track them later, okay? People come, they have a good time, then they leave."

  "What time did you last see Apple?" Caleigh pressed.

  "I don't know." He paused. "Maybe two? I saw her out by the pool after the private dance. I don't know if I saw her again after that. But what does this have to do with my daughter?"

  Maybe nothing. But it was quite a coincidence that two women were now missing.

  "Tell me about your daughter," I said instead of answering. "What's her name?"

  "Kendall." Wendell started to raise his cup of coffee to his mouth, glanced at the glass of alcohol Stephanie had taken away, and set his mug down.

  "When did you realize Kendall was missing?" Caleigh asked.

  "I didn't know until I got the call. She comes and goes. She's twenty-five, for crying out loud."

  "When did you last see her?" I asked.

  "I-I-I don't know." He looked guilty for a moment. "Look, it's not odd for us to not see one another for a few days. We keep different hours."

  And lived in a house the size of a small castle.

  "Was she at your party?" I asked.

  "Yes." He nodded emphatically. "Yes, I remember her there Saturday night."

  "But you haven't seen her since?" I shared a look with Caleigh. Two women missing from the same party?

  "I-I don't think so. Look, as soon as I got off the phone with the kidnappers, I went to her room, and sure enough, she wasn't there," he went on. "It didn't look like her bed had been slept in. That's when I remembered the card Stephanie said some PI had left, and I called you."

  "We'd like to see Kendall's room, please," I said and rose to my feet.

  He set down his coffee and stood. "Of course. This way."

  He led Caleigh and me up the long, curved staircase. The top landing was wide and deep, with an accent table and a low loveseat. I vaguely wondered if anyone ever sat there, needing a rest between floors. There were two archways—one on each side of the landing. He took us under the left one, which led to another hall and several doors.

  Wendell opened the last door and stepped aside for us to enter.

  My heels sunk into the thick white carpeting, and it almost felt like I wasn't wearing shoes anymore.

  Beside me I felt Caleigh suck in a breath at the sight of the room.

  Big and lavish would be an understatement. It was the size of my entire apartment, closet and bathroom included, and it was gorgeous.

  The triple dresser, vanity, and nightstands were a light wood. None of that little girl antique white stuff. This was more blond. The headboard of her king-sized bed was made with fabric—a rich eggplant with delicate gold buttons sewn into it to create a diagonal pattern. The bed coverings were also in that deep purple, as well as the cushion on the stool at her vanity.

  I immediately walked to the double doors on the far side of the room and opened them to a large walk-in closet, complete with a jewelry island in the middle and custom cabinetry to show off an impressive collection of shoes, bags, and designer duds. Kidnapped or not, all I could think at the moment was that Kendall Manchester lived a charmed life.

  "So jealous," Caleigh whispered over my shoulder.

  I completely agreed, but I kept that thought to myself.

  I gingerly thumbed through one of the racks. All of my favorite friends—Dolce & Gabbana, Versace, Hermes, Calvin Klein, Gucci… There wasn't an item that didn't have a high-end label, and all of it was out of my price range. My knees buckled at a Carolina Herrera light blue gown with black dégradé leaf embroidery across the bodice. I had seen that very dress in a copy of Vogue last month.

  Caleigh patted me on the shoulder, offering her support, and then nearly drooled when she noticed a pair of metallic gold Valentino Garavani leather pumps with studded straps.

  Clearly we could spend a week in here, but staring at these elegant outfits wasn't going to help us find the lucky owner.

  I stepped out of the closet, needing a second to calm down from fashion overload. When I felt clearheaded enough, I turned to Wendell, who was still standing in the doorway.

  "Have you tried calling her?" It seemed like a silly question, but what if this was some kind of practical joke?

  He pulled his phone from his pocket, dialed, and put it on speaker. It didn't ring and went straight to voicemail. Kendall's voice was perky and reminded me of Reese Witherspoon when she played Elle in Legally Blonde.

  "You've reached me. I can't talk now but leave a name and number, and maybe I'll call you back tout de suite."

  "What about her car? What does she drive?" I asked.

  "The red Ferrari that's parked in the driveway."

  That car had been there the first time I'd visited too.

  "I'd like to bring in the police," I said.

  Caleigh exited the closet with a dazed look on her face.

  Wendell vehemently shook his head. "Absolutely not. They said they'd kill her. I'm not taking that chance." He paused. "Maybe I should be prepared to pay the ransom?" He looked practically ill at the thought.

  "Not yet," I reassured him. "Let's see what we can find first."

  I didn't tell him that even if people paid the ransom, most of the time the kidnappers didn't let the victim go. The best bet we had at keeping Kendall alive was stringing the kidnappers along while we tried to find her.

  "Caleigh is going to put an app on your phone so when the kidnappers call back, we can trace their location."

  He hesitantly handed his cell over, as if he didn't want to part with it. Then he watched intently as Caleigh did her thing.

  "Also," I said more loudly, to catch his attention, "I want you to make a list of all of your household employees and everyone who was at the party. All of the guests, the dancers, the caterers, people you hired to set up, clean up, and even water your lawn. Anyone who was here Saturday night and who has access to the house, even if they hadn't been invited."

  He nodded, and a sullen look gathered in his eyes. His movements were slower than when we'd first arrived. The shock may have been wearing off, and the magnitude of this was hitting him.

  "I'll need you to send that to my office tonight. Email address is on my card. Do you still have it?"

  "Yes, I do," he said.

  "Good. If you hear from them again, you call me immediately. It doesn't matter the time." I stared at his face, looking for acknowledgment that he heard what I was saying. I briefly thought that maybe I should be telling this all to Stephanie instead.

  "Okay." His voice came out as barely a whisper.

  Caleigh finished and handed his phone back to him.

  I stepped up to him and looked him square in the eye.
With my heels, we were the same height. A lot of men hated that. It didn't seem to bother Wendell. It could've been the shock though.

  "We will do everything we can to get your daughter back." I sounded way more confident than I actually was. Honestly? Apple had been missing for over 24 hours, and all we had to show for it was another missing girl. My track record wasn't so hot so far.

  His eyes moistened, which tugged at my heart. While it was obvious the guy loved women, partying, and expensive booze, I could tell he truly loved his daughter too. While I still wasn't 100 percent sure I trusted the guy's recollection of what had happened to Apple at his party, at least I was pretty sure he was telling the truth about his daughter. The shimmer of desperation in his eyes was proof enough of that.

  "Thank you," he mumbled.

  I told him we'd be in touch tomorrow, and Caleigh and I headed out.

  As I pulled away from the estate, I couldn't help wondering about two young women going missing the same night from the same house. Had Apple been taken by Kendall's kidnappers too? And if she had, without a rich daddy to pay ransom for her return, would they bother to keep her alive?

  CHAPTER SIX

  Sleep came in fits and starts. I woke frequently, and each time it was harder and harder to fall back to sleep. I finally got up at some ungodly hour and stared at my Keurig while it did its thing. I absently listened to a message I'd gotten from Derek sometime during the night.

  "James, what do you think about having Elaine's party at McKinley's? Call me."

  McKinley's was a dive bar three blocks from the marina. There was no way a party there would be nice enough for Elaine. Or anyone with a pulse. I made a mental note to book a venue later today so Derek couldn't ruin this party and his chances of keeping Elaine in town.

  After a mug of deliciousness, a shower, and then a second mug, I called Antonio to see if he'd heard anything yet.

  "Hey, Jamie." Antonio sounded like he'd gotten less sleep than I had. "The bad news is that no one's heard or seen anything about your missing friend."

  Damn.

  "The good news is that there are no Jane Doe's fitting her description."

  I guess in this case, no news was the best news I was going to get.

  "If I hear anything, I'll call you," he promised.

  I thanked him, hung up, and headed to the office. Luckily, Tuesday was kinder to me than Monday had been, and there were no coffee accidents, only average traffic, and no surprises waiting for me in the parking lot.

  As I stepped into the agency, everyone was standing around Maya's desk. They looked as antsy to do something as I was. Maya handed me my usual coffee, which despite already downing two cups, I didn't refuse. It still felt like my blood was sludge in my veins.

  "Any news?" I asked.

  Three heads shook. They all knew what I was referring to.

  I quickly filled them in on what Antonio had told me, though it wasn't a lot. "Did Wendell send that list of his party guests, Maya?" I asked when I'd finished.

  She held up a sheet of paper. "Yes. It was in my inbox when I came in."

  "Good." I took it and looked over the names. None of them jumped out at me, but I only glanced over them quickly.

  "You think the two missing girls are linked?" Sam asked.

  I nodded. "I think it's too coincidental not to be."

  Caleigh gently slapped Sam's arm. "You should've seen the clothes this woman owns."

  I turned to Maya. "Can you look into Wendell's finances and business dealings? See if there's anything out of the ordinary or if anyone might have a beef with him over anything recent." While I was pretty sure the motive behind the kidnapping was a cool five million, it was also possible a little personal revenge might be sweetening the deal. Wealth like Wendell's didn't come from doing business like a pussycat.

  Maya nodded. "On it!"

  "And us?" Caleigh asked.

  "We'll start running down everyone on this list."

  Sam peeked over my shoulder at the sheet of paper. "Where do you want to start?"

  I glanced at the list—which was long enough to occupy us for a month. Having Maya supply names of close business associates might narrow it down a bit, but for the moment, I decide to start with the people who'd have limited access to the house—specifically meaning that that particular party provided a limited time opportunity to abduct Kendall Manchester. "Let's talk to the caterers first," I said. "Tasty Catering."

  "I'll grab my purse," Caleigh said. She and Sam headed toward the break room.

  "Uh, Jamie?" Maya asked as they walked away.

  "Hmm?" I glanced up from the list.

  "I know Apple is the priority, but I have the report on Jan."

  "Who?" I asked atomically, still lost in my own thoughts.

  "The Hampshire case. The woman the husband is, uh, scouting."

  "Right!" I nodded, shoving the list into my bag. I was ashamed to say my paying clients were the last thing on my mind that day. "What did you find out?"

  Maya grabbed her tablet from her desk and read off. "I looked into it, and Jan, from the address Caleigh gave me, is Janice Holbrook. She's a seamstress and works for a tailor not far from her home. She drives an old Toyota Corolla and lives alone. I have only done preliminary checks, but so far it looks like she has no criminal marks against her. One ticket for forgetting to use a turn signal last year, and she attends church regularly. I'm still waiting on financials."

  Sounded like Jan was a regular woman seeing a polygamist. I wondered if he'd told her about his lifestyle yet. How did one approach that subject the first time? Then again, for all I knew, Jan might have been actively seeking that lifestyle herself.

  "Does she have any history with polygamy? Family? Friends?"

  Maya shook her head. "None that I've found. But, from what I was reading, it's a pretty secretive society. I mean, it's still technically illegal in many states, and some do prosecute for it. So, it's not really something you'd advertise on your Facebook page, you know?"

  I grinned. "Gotcha." I paused, remembering the change of face I'd witnessed at the daycare center. While it could well have just been a woman trying to put her best foot forward on a date, something about it had bothered me. "Let me know when those financials come in, okay?"

  Maya nodded. "Sure thing."

  * * *

  Tasty Catering, which wasn't the most imaginative name, was a large white structure in an industrial area of the city, sandwiched between several other warehouse style buildings that all looked the same.

  The lobby had a modern feel with a few gray chairs, a runner that led from the front door to a counter where a young woman sat, and a couple of tables with what looked like foodie magazines. The walls were painted white, probably to not distract from the artwork, which consisted of several poster-sized framed photos of food—plump shrimp with thin lemon slices, vibrant cherry tomatoes and basil leaves over linguine, grilled filet mignon beside a heap of creamy, buttery mashed potatoes and glistening asparagus, and a slice of rich seven-layer chocolate cake frosted with chocolate mousse, dark chocolate shavings, and raspberries on top.

  They were vivid enough to make any mouth water, especially one that hadn't had breakfast yet. I made a mental note to check how much they charged. They might be perfect for Elaine's surprise party.

  We approached the desk as the receptionist was ending a phone call. "Welcome to Tasty Catering. How can I help you?" she asked.

  "Jamie Bond," I told her. "I'm an investigator, and I was hoping to speak with someone about a catering job at the Manchester home this past weekend."

  The woman looked a bit confused. "Are you a police officer?" She looked from me to Caleigh and Sam, standing a beat behind me.

  "Private sector," I assured her. "We're looking into a matter for Mr. Manchester."

  She bit her lip but hurried out of the room. When she returned, a tall, slender man dressed in a white apron covered in flour was by her side.

  "I'm Aaron Finley, the owner of
Tasty." He extended a thin hand my way, which I shook. "Can I help you?" he asked.

  "I was hoping we could discuss an event you catered Saturday night at the Manchester home," I said.

  "May I see some ID?" he asked.

  I nodded, fishing my wallet out of my purse and showing him my identification that put me one step above the general public but a far cry from law enforcement.

  He took a good long time looking it over before he finally nodded. "Let's go into the back," he said and led the way down a short narrow hall into a small, commercial kitchen. I could see two other people in aprons working to pile canapés onto silver platters, obviously getting ready for another event.

  "What is this about?" Finley asked, half looking at us and half watching his employees. He moved in quick jerky spurts, his energy definitely on the nervous side. A wisp of brown hair arched high above the rest of his thinning mane and perched forward. He reminded me of a bird. And not a proud, confident eagle. More like a finch ready to take flight.

  "You worked the catering event on Saturday evening at Mr. Manchester's home?"

  He nodded.

  "How many employees did you have with you?" I asked, glancing at the two behind him. While they were both moving quickly, I could see their eyes flitting to us, obviously curious.

  He arched an eyebrow at me. "May I ask why you want to know?"

  "There was an…incident that evening. And we're talking to everyone who was there."

  His face suddenly pinched with frown. "An incident? With one of my employees?"

  I shook my head. "No. I can assure you that the incident had nothing to do with the food," I told him.

  Which seemed to be no assurance at all as the frown stayed firmly on his face. "Then I don't know what you want with us."

  I took a deep breath. "Look, I'm conducting an official investigation for Mr. Manchester, the man who hired you." I paused. "And has spent a pretty penny with your company in the past, correct?" I guessed. My phone chirped, but I ignored it, staying focused on Finley.

  He licked his lips before nodding slowly.

  "We just want to talk to you and your employees. That's all."