Fatal Bond

by Gemma Halliday

  Before I could even make sense of my own thoughts, Danny reached down and kissed my forehead.

  "Gotta go, kiddo. See you later?"

  I nodded, unsure my voice would work.

  He shut the door behind him, and all the pent up emotions began to leak out of my eyes. Stupid feelings. I stalked to the kitchen and grabbed a half empty bottle of Chardonnay from the fridge, taking a swig right out of the bottle.

  A knock sounded at my front door. Ridiculous hope bubbled up in my chest. Had Danny come back? Changed his mind? Decided friends wasn't enough for him after all?

  I set the bottle down and practically attacked the door, throwing it open.

  To find Sam and Kendall on the other side.

  Oh. Right.

  "Oh. My. God. That traffic was seriously insane. And, like, Sam has the worst sound system. I could barely hear the bass in my music. And no car charger!" Kendall threw her hands up in the air as she stalked into my living room. "What is up with that? I mean, the nineties called—they want their technology back."

  Sam clenched her teeth, dragging Kendall's bags into my living room. "She's like this nonstop. It's almost a gift she has, finding things to complain about."

  "If only she could harness her powers for good and not evil," I mumbled, patting my cheeks to make sure they were dry. The last thing I wanted to do was explain the mess my emotions were to my employee and Princess Priss. Mostly because I couldn't explain them even to myself.

  "Yeah, enjoy that," Sam said. "She never shuts up. Julio asked to sleep at a friend's. I let him. It's a school night, Jamie." She pinned me with a look. "A school night."

  I nodded. "Okay, you're relieved. I'll deal with Kendall tonight."

  "You have booze?" Sam checked

  I nodded to my open Chardonnay.

  "You might need something stronger," she called over her shoulder as she left and shut the door behind her.

  I turned to find Kendall standing in front of my television. "Alexa, turn on TV!" she shouted at it.

  Nothing.

  "Alexa, entertain me with the television!" she shouted.

  I rolled my eyes, crossed the room to find the remote, and flipped the TV on. "No Alexa," I told Kendall, handing the remote to her.

  She looked at me with a blank stare. "You have to use, like, buttons?"

  I nodded.

  "Gross."

  I ignored her, focusing on that wine in the kitchen calling my name. I took a generous sip and then went to the linen closet and grabbed blankets and pillows for Kendall. I came back to find her standing near the hall, frantically waving her hands at the wall.

  "Uh, what are you doing?" I asked.

  She shot me a well, duh look. I was beginning to think it was her favorite expression. "I'm trying to turn off the lights? Hello?"

  I very deliberately flipped the light switch in front of her.

  She snorted. "Ugh. Manual switches? This is like the least smart house I've ever been in." She flopped back on the sofa and picked up the remote again, flipping to a movie channel.

  I set the pile of linens down next to her, which earned me a confused look from the demi diva.

  "What's this?"

  "Extra blankets."

  "No, I mean why are they here?"

  "So you can use them to sleep on." I wasn't getting the question.

  She shook her head. "No, aren't I staying in the guest room?"

  I felt a headache brewing again. "It's a one-bedroom apartment."

  "Well, think I should get the one bedroom."

  I put my hands on my hips. "Really? You think so?"

  "Yeah. I mean, I'm totes doing your friend the favor by, like, not going home. I should get the bed. Sofa surfing is not what I signed up for," she said.

  "I'm pretty sure being kidnapped in your place is not what Apple signed up for either. You should be glad you're here and not tied up somewhere." I felt my throat close on that last part, the image of the used duct tape roll and dirty rag coming back to me. I prayed that wherever Apple was, she was safe tonight.

  Kendall pursed her glossy lips. "You got a TV in your bedroom?"

  I shook my head.

  "Fine. I'll stay here then," she decided, flipping to another movie channel.

  "Enjoy the accommodations," I told her sarcastically, grabbing the bottle of Chardonnay from the kitchen before heading toward my own room.

  "Google!" Kendall yelled. "What's that sci-fi movie with Matt Damon."

  "No Google Home either!" I called over my shoulder as I marched down the hall.

  "God, it's like living in the Stone Age!" I heard her moan as I shut the door.

  * * *

  Sleep didn't come easily that night. I shut my eyes, but images of Danny danced across my lids. They morphed into Apple's shoe, sparkling larger than life, before sliding into bloody visions of Peter Rivera's dead body. At one point in the night, I heard a ticking clock hammering through my dreams, making me all too aware of the kidnappers' deadline rapidly approaching and us no closer to finding Apple than we had been two days ago.

  At five thirty I finally gave up and dragged my stiff, sore body to the shower. I quickly primped and dressed in pewter gray skinny pants and a sleeveless white tie-neck top. I added extra mascara to compensate for the dark circles under my eyes and extra red lipstick to compensate for the fact I had no idea where to start looking for Apple today.

  Kendall was passed out on the sofa, one arm slung over her face. Her mouth was wide open, and the snoring was a mixture of throaty growls and whistling. I was sorely tempted to post a video to social media, but I took the high road and covered her with a blanket instead.

  I headed into the kitchen to start the coffee. While it brewed, I grabbed my phone to text Aiden and noticed a voice message from Derek. I hadn't heard him call. I listened to my voicemail.

  "James, how's party detail going? Call me back." He sounded rushed.

  Calling him back was last on my long to-do list. Instead, I shot off an email to Maya, asking her to make the rest of the party arrangements. Then I texted Aiden.

  Did you check Wendell's second rental property in Riverside?

  I hadn't actually expected him to be up at this hour, but I got a response back in only a minute.

  It was empty.

  That I had expected, but I still felt disappointment at the news. The kidnapper was in the wind with Apple.

  Aiden texted again.

  We're processing forensics from the crime scene.

  That was great, but by time they finished it, it would be too late for Apple.

  I added milk and sugar to my coffee mug. My phone rang, and I expected to see Aiden's face on my screen, but it was Maya's.

  "You're up early," I said, answering.

  "Yeah, couldn't sleep last night. I just keep thinking about Apple."

  That made two of us. "You got my email?"

  "I did, and I'll get a venue and decor for the party buttoned up today. But that's not why I'm calling."

  "What's up?" I asked, sipping coffee hot enough to burn my tongue.

  "I've hit on something with the owner of the bank account number that the kidnappers want the funds wired to."

  I set my cup down, fully awake now. "I'm ashamed I doubted your skills, but I didn't think that would go anywhere."

  "Yeah, neither did I, honestly. But I followed the paper trail and found a parent corporation that's also affiliated with another corporation that's owned by a name I recognized."

  "Wendell?" I guessed.

  "No. Delphine King."

  "You're sure?" I had to admit, I'd sort of moved the producer down my list. Nothing about the case had pointed her way until now, other than a strong dislike of Wendell. Which was something I was beginning to think was every woman's right.

  "I'm sure. I mean, there are a lot of interwoven corporations and companies owning companies. But hers is a pretty distinct name."

  "Text me the details. I'll follow up on it ASAP," I said and hun
g up.

  I stood over Kendall and gently called her name. She didn't stir. I said it louder and then louder still, but she just lay there. I had a feeling a mariachi band wouldn't wake her. I pushed her shoulder, and she grunted. I gave another shove and fleetingly considered slapping her awake. Finally, with another push, her eyes flew open and she gasped.

  "Hey, we need to leave, so can you please get ready quickly?" I said.

  She sat up slowly, still half asleep and probably processing what I'd said. I gave her a minute, but when she placed her bare feet on the floor and just sat there, I sighed.

  "Kendall, we have to go. Can you move faster please?"

  She didn't acknowledge me verbally, but she stood up, which I almost applauded. She grabbed the handle of one of her bags and rolled it into the bathroom. Thank goodness.

  I called Delphine's office and got her assistant. After a couple of little white lies involving Brad Pitt being interested in working with her and me being his super agent, I finally learned that Delphine was filming on a small lot in Studio City that morning.

  I threw on some cute pumps, added my Glock to my purse, and downed the last of my coffee.

  Still no sign of Kendall. She could be taking a bubble bath for all I knew. I knocked on the door, but she barked that she'd be out in a few. I was just starting to wonder if that few would consist of minutes or hours, when she finally achieved makeup nirvana and emerged from the bathroom. I practically shoved her ahead of me down to my car and hit the freeway, making tracks toward Studio City.

  The address the assistant had given me was a small, independently owned lot renting out studio space by the day. A row of large warehouses were numbered, looking like they could have just as easily housed shipping crates as celebrities. The lot was closed and gated, and since our names were not on the list, I parked a block up on the street. Once I cut the engine, I turned to Kendall.

  "I need you to wait here."

  "What—like in the car?"

  "Yeah. Like in the car."

  She scoffed. "No way."

  "Yes way. No one can see you, remember?"

  She glanced out the window at the sparse early morning foot traffic. "Who's gonna see me?"

  If Maya's info was right, the kidnapper just might. "It doesn't matter," I told her instead. "Just stay in the car."

  She made a face. "You can't keep me prisoner."

  "Well, actually I can. I own handcuffs if you'd rather I chain you to the steering wheel."

  She narrowed her eyes at me. "Kinky. But I'm not a child. I know how to sit still. Although I must say that your treatment of me is bordering on abuse."

  "If you so much as set foot outside this car, no TV privileges tonight."

  She opened her mouth to protest, but I was faster, exiting the car and slamming the door shut behind me. I beeped the car locked and prayed Kendall took my warning seriously.

  Instead of heading toward the front gate, I circled around the back of the studio, happy to see a group of extras standing near a back gate, smoking. I waited until a couple of them had finished before following them through the gate as if I were just another nameless body filling out a shot.

  According to her assistant, Delphine was filming in studio 7A, which just happened to be the farthest from the back gate. Lucky me. By the time I'd walked the length of the studio grounds, my white top was clinging to me in places, and I was rethinking the cute but toe-murdering pumps.

  I found Delphine standing just inside the open warehouse doors, reading from a clipboard and barking orders into a headset. It took a moment for her to recognize me, but when she did, she lowered the microphone and took a step toward me. "You were at my office the other day, right?" she asked.

  I nodded. "Jamie Bond."

  Delphine frowned. "I remember. You work for Wendell. What does he want now?"

  "What do you know about a company called Broadside Entertainment?"

  She blinked at me. "What?"

  "Broadside. According to their corporate filings, you're listed as an officer."

  "I…uh…I…" She gestured with her hands in the air as if trying to conjure up an answer like a magician. "I don't know. I'm an officer in a lot of companies."

  "Really?" I raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were a film producer, not an entrepreneur."

  She sighed. "Look, it's standard practice for production companies to create a new corporation for each project. Sometimes several. The talent contracts, the location rentals, holdings, the loans—they're all in the corporation's name. That way if a movie is a bust and loses money, we can easily file corporate bankruptcy, and we all move on to the next film unscathed."

  That sounded like it worked out for everyone except the backers who suddenly lost their investments. "So is Broadside Entertainment one of your corporations?"

  She shook her head. "I guess? I don't remember all their names. If I'm listed as an officer, I didn't create it. Likely one of the other producers I work with did. Honestly I may not have even worked on the movie in the end. A lot of these projects die at the paperwork stages."

  I felt my tentative lead slipping through my hands. "What about bank accounts?" I pressed.

  "For Broad…what did you say it was?"

  "Broadside."

  "Sure. Yeah. I don't know. I mean, if there's an active production associated with it, there must be funds hanging out somewhere."

  "Do you have access to it?"

  "Me?" She shook her head, making her bob dance back and forth. "How would I know? My assistant handles all of that."

  I had no idea if she was telling the truth or covering her butt. But by the way she was glancing back toward the set, I knew I was losing her attention rapidly.

  "What about Peter Rivera?" I asked, changing gears.

  "Who?" She glanced behind me again and snapped her fingers at a man adjusting a tall piece of lighting equipment. "That goes in the back. Ask Alan where to set it up."

  "Peter Rivera," I repeated.

  She shook her head, her eyes still on the lighting. "No, I don't know that name."

  "He's a caterer."

  She turned her attention back to me. "On this set?"

  "No, he works for Tasty Catering." Or worked.

  She frowned and shook her head. "Look, I meet lots of people. I don't remember them all."

  Unless she hired lots of people to kidnap heiresses, she should remember this name.

  "Look, are we done here?" she asked, her attention back on the set.

  "One more thing," I pressed, going back to something she'd said earlier. "You mentioned location rentals?"

  She nodded. "Sure. We usually rent out homes or empty business spaces to set-dress for the locations we need. Why?"

  "Can I get a list of all the current ones any of your corporations are renting?"

  She gave me an incredulous look. "All of them? Right now?"

  "Yes, please." I added a sugary smile to soften her, but I doubted it worked.

  "I'm sorry, I couldn't possibly—" she started, waving me off.

  But I jumped in with, "Or I can have the ADA come back with a warrant for them?"

  "Warrant?" She threw her hands up in the air. "God, Wendell Manchester really does know how to flex his slimy little muscles. Fine," she finally relented, obviously imagining what sort of delay a warrant would have on her day versus just complying with little ol' me. "I'll have my assistant send it over."

  "Thanks," I said, handing her my card. "If she can do that quickly, it would be appreciated."

  Delphine shook her bob at me, but as I walked away, I saw her immediately pull out her phone, so I was hopeful she'd comply.

  I walked back to my car, taking the shorter route through the front gates this time. Clearly no one cared who was leaving the studios. Once outside, I glanced up to make sure I still saw Kendall in the passenger seat. I did. She was messing with my radio dials, but I figured reconfiguring my settings was a small price to pay.

  I shot off a text to Maya to
be on the lookout for the list from Delphine's assistant and to forward it to Aiden when she got it. Then I sent off a quick message to Aiden, letting him know some other possible locations for Apple's whereabouts were coming his way soon. I would have loved to check them out myself, but I knew he had the resources to do it more quickly. And time was ticking rapidly.

  I beeped my car open and slid into the driver's seat.

  "About time!" Kendall huffed. "I'm dying of boredom."

  "There are worse ways to go," I told her, starting my engine.

  "Ugh. You sound like my dad. How old are you anyway, like, forty?"

  I shot her a look that could kill. "Twenty-nine." Ish.

  She waved a hand my way. "Same diff."

  I was about to suggest she try walking home, when my phone chimed with a text. I expected Maya or Aiden getting back to me, but instead it was Derek's number I saw when I checked the screen.

  Get my voicemail? Are you ignoring the old man?

  Gee, he caught on quick.

  "Who's that?" she asked.

  "My dad," I replied automatically as I shot off a short note that I had the party planning well in hand.

  "Your dad?" she said. "Wow, if your dad's still alive, he must be, like, ancient."

  I took a deep breath, telling myself it would be bad form to kill our client's daughter.

  Derek sent a message back. Make sure they cater chick wings. And we need beer.

  Serenity now.

  "I have an idea!" I said brightly, pulling my car away from the curb. "How about instead of sitting in my car all day, you get to spend the day on a boat?"

  Kendall popped a genuine smile and nodded. "Now we're talking. I love yachting."

  "Fabulous," I said with just the slightest hint of sarcasm. I didn't tell her the Black Pearl was about as far from a yacht as a Pinto was to a limo.

  I drove to the marina and watched the delight slowly fade from her face was we walked up to the Black Pearl.

  "Wait—what's this?"

  "This is your alternative to being locked up in my car."

  She stopped on the planks, folding both arms over her chest. "No way. I'm not going on that. I'm in Louboutins!"