Purview of Flashbulbs (Alexis Parker Book 15)

by G. K. Parks

  After a quick check for surveillance equipment which proved pointless, I went back inside. Kurt Wen was staying in the hotel. Even though he wasn’t the talent, he was revered enough to have scored one of the nicer suites, but unlike Dinah, he was working today. He or one of his stuntmen could have vaulted up and down those stairs like nothing, and none of them would have given a second thought to jumping to the neighboring roof. Hell, the course they created was much trickier than the setup inside the hotel.

  “What do we know about Kurt Wen?” I asked when Cross answered the phone. “He’s the stunt coordinator.”

  “I know who he is. He’s considered one of the best in the business. He’s at the higher end of the pay scale for his particular job title, but he has a lot of debt. I believe the term degenerate gambler was used.”

  “By whom?”

  “His second and fourth ex-wives. Is there a reason for your question?”

  “The hotel stairs lead to the roof. Based on the stunts he devises, he or one of his guys could have used the roof access to disappear.”

  “What about the average human?”

  “I’m not sure. Someone in decent shape with some training probably could pull it off, but I can’t be certain.”

  “I’ll see if I can pin down minutes and seconds based on the hotel’s security system. That’s assuming they will cooperate, which is unclear. I’ll call you back.”

  “Hey, Dinah,” I said when I returned to her room, “who’s doing their own stunts on the film?”

  “We all want to do as much as we can,” she said, her face surrounded by the cushioned pillow while the masseuse worked on her shoulders. “Why do you ask?”

  “Curiosity.”

  She pulled the sheet tightly around her before sitting up. “Bullshit.” She smiled, proud of her own deductive reasoning skills.

  “Bravo,” I said, hoping to keep her distracted.

  She took a bow and climbed off the table. “Thanks, Mindy.” She watched me for a moment. “It looks like you might benefit from a back rub. My treat.”

  “No, thanks.”

  Dinah gave me a final uncertain look before dismissing the masseuse, who folded up the table and carried it out the door. Ty held the door while she exited, tossing a smile in my direction before securing it.

  Dinah went into the bedroom to dress, calling out, “Why the sudden interest in stunts?”

  “I may have missed my calling in life.”

  “Puh-lease. You were meant to be an investigator. That’s the only consistent thing you’ve said about your personality and this job since the day we met.”

  I didn’t think that was accurate, but I let it slide. “Someone might have been able to vault over the railings and basically drop level by level very quickly. It’s the only conceivable way they could have escaped Scar’s notice. Afterward, they probably raced up to the roof and vaulted across to another building.”

  “You do believe me.” She sounded triumphant. “That does narrow things, doesn’t it?”

  “It might.”

  “Lance and Clay trained on that course. The stunt guys have been all over it, and I don’t know how many extras and assistants tested it out during breaks. Apparently, they think the set is a jungle gym. Neil bitched everyone out about it yesterday. If the studio knew, they’d shit a brick. Insurance does not cover things like that. Fortunately, no one got hurt.”

  “I do recall Kurt suggesting I take the course for a spin.”

  She appeared in the doorway. “He’s the one behind the crazy antics. Could that be because he’s covering his tracks?”

  “It’s possible.”

  Now that Dinah had a rubdown, she actually seemed more interested in devising her own theories than hearing mine. I suspected she wanted to solve this on her own or with my guidance in order to feel like she could competently portray an investigator. It was stupid but a little endearing.

  She opened a bottle of sparkling water and took a sip. “Doesn’t this mean my phone logs are irrelevant? You know it’s someone who’s trained to do jumps and stuff.”

  “Not necessarily.”

  She put a hand on her hip. “Isn’t that how this works? You collect clues and narrow down suspects. Why would this be any different?” She reached for her notepad and pen.

  “You don’t have to be a stuntman to race up the steps or climb down the railings.”

  “But you said they must have vaulted to the next building.”

  “What about Scar? Don’t you think a formidable man like him would be capable of pulling off the exact same thing?”

  “But we ruled Scar out,” she protested.

  “I know. He’s just an example.”

  She dropped into a chair, looking utterly disgusted. “Anyone who’s fit and obsessed with me could do this. We haven’t made any progress. How do you ever make any progress?”

  “It’s a pain in the ass, isn’t it?”

  She glared at me. “I expect results in a timely fashion. Cross Security is supposed to have some of the best investigators around. At the moment, I’m not impressed.”

  Scary words, I thought sardonically. Frankly, I wasn’t impressed with the supermodel actress who slept with my beloved. My expression hardened, and she switched tactics.

  “In the meantime, I still need to prepare for my role.”

  “You’ve already shot several scenes. I’m sure you’re doing a bang-up job.”

  “Why didn’t you want a massage?”

  “What?” Now she was jumping around like a professional acrobat.

  She raised one eyebrow in a perfect arch. “Answer the question.”

  “Nice.” I approved of her interrogation technique. “It’s nothing personal. I just don’t let strangers touch me.”

  “Because of your scars?”

  “Partly.”

  Feeling brazen on account of my compliment, she jerked her chin up. “Show me one of them.”

  I took a seat across from her and held out my wrists. “See these,” I pointed to the faint pink bands, “these are the result of being bound.”

  “Like handcuffed?”

  “Like tied up.”

  She grinned. “Kinky.”

  My tone went cold and hard. “No. Tied up and tortured.”

  She sat back and swallowed, uncomfortable with how dark the conversation became, which was why I said it. I didn’t care to talk about the investigation. I just didn’t want to talk about me. “When did it happen?”

  “A couple of years ago, and a few weeks ago.”

  “You’re kidding me?”

  “Wish I was.”

  She thought for a moment. “You weren’t an FBI agent a few weeks ago.”

  “I was not.”

  “Holy hell.”

  “Cross hires topnotch investigators, and investigating is dangerous, particularly when you are on to something. This isn’t a joke. Your stalker means business. You need to realize it. Your team knows to be vigilant, and Cross Security is taking every precaution. This isn’t a movie. It’s real life.”

  “I get it.” She sounded solemn. “I will be more careful, and I’ll try to answer your questions without protest or as much protest.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Maybe you could try to do the same. We’re in this together, Alex.”

  Even though I didn’t want to admit it, she was right. How the hell did I end up working for one of Martin’s early conquests? I forced myself not to cringe. It was hard to look at her and not think about them. Sure, I briefly worked for his ex-fiancée, but I’d been in such desperate need of a distraction at the time that it barely registered. This was different.

  “Do you want to see what a gunshot looks like?” I asked. She nodded, and I turned around and raised my shirt.

  She blew out a breath. “Wow. Are all those scars from bullets?”

  “No.”

  “Why the hell are you still doing this damn job?”

  “I was just thinking the same thing
.” I lowered my shirt and turned around.

  She frowned, biting her lip while she tried to figure something out. “You’re crazy.”

  I pinched my thumb and pointer finger together. “Little bit.”

  “No. A lot. If I’d been through any of that,” she waved her hand at my body, “I would turn my entire house into a panic room and never leave. It’s no wonder you quit the FBI. I would have run away and found some deep, dark hole to hide in, but you’re still doing the same job. That’s insane.”

  “It is.” I wondered if that might be her stalker’s motivation for terrorizing her. If he put her through the wringer, she’d drop out of the film and maybe disappear from the limelight altogether. That possibility greatly broadened our suspect pool.

  She flopped back in the chair as if she just finished running a marathon. “That’s what I’ve been missing all along. My character, her motivation, her backstory, I totally get it now. Tragedy strikes, and she goes off the deep end with an obsessed need for justice.”

  “Hey, now,” I held up my palms, “I never went off the deep end, and I don’t have an obsessed need for justice. This is the job. Hell, look at police officers or firefighters worth their salt, and you’ll see they’re doing the same thing. They face danger or the potential for danger every shift, but they go to work the next day as if nothing happened.”

  “Maybe,” she didn’t look convinced, “it’s about putting others’ well-being above your own. I can see that, but I’m not wrong either. And it’s my character. I can play her however I want.”

  “So you don’t need me anymore?”

  “Not for the attitude or backstory.” She gestured at the memoir and her notepad. “But for the rest. This is only the beginning.” Getting up, she went to the hotel phone and picked it up. “This calls for a celebration, and I’m starving.” She lifted the handset to her ear and ordered a snack for herself and her security team; then she turned to me. “You weren’t here for lunch. You have to eat. What do you want?”

  “California Cobb salad, no bacon,” I said.

  As she was relaying my order, the window in her bedroom shattered. Immediately, I dove for cover, pulling her down with me. My gun was in my purse, which wasn’t ideal. I grabbed my bag off the chair, pulled my gun, and made sure she was okay before moving into a crouch.

  Security burst through the door. Ty followed closely behind Scar. “Dinah?” Scar asked.

  “She’s okay,” I said.

  Scar used hand gestures rather than verbal instructions. I wasn’t sure why. Did he really believe a tango was inside the room? Ty diverted to Dinah, shielding her as he led her into the hallway and to another location. Gripping my gun, I moved toward the bedroom. Scar kept to the walls, moving faster in order to enter the room ahead of me.

  He aimed, sweeping from left to right. No one was inside, just the shattered glass. I kept low, figuring it might have been taken out by a sniper. Windows in high-rises didn’t just shatter. Hell, they rarely even opened.

  “There.” Scaratilli fired before I had time to voice a protest, and the remote-controlled drone fizzled and popped, pausing momentarily in mid-air before plummeting.

  I leaned out the window, careful of the glass, and watched it careen to the ground, praying no one was below. Getting hit with anything from this height would result in serious injury. Before I could berate him, Scaratilli left the room.

  Twenty

  In the hallway, Scar barked orders to his team as he beelined for the stairwell. The heavy door slammed behind him, and I pressed the button for the elevator. While I waited for the doors to open, I checked on Dinah. Then I stepped inside the car and rode down to the lobby. Unsure if I beat Scaratilli down the steps, I went out the door and jogged to the spot where the drone had crashed to the ground.

  Several bystanders crowded around, and I dismissed them with a quick wave. The paparazzi remained close. Pulling out my phone, I snapped a few quick photos of the group and called Cross. We needed containment.

  Whoever launched this thing at Dinah’s window had to be close. I looked at the mangled metal and plastic. One of the legs was covered in black duct tape. I didn’t have gloves, so I didn’t touch it. A few minutes later, Scar jogged to my location.

  “Did you find the drone operator?” I asked.

  He shook his head and crouched down. “I’m guessing one of the paps launched this skyward in the hopes of scoring some video footage or photos.”

  “Maybe.” I grabbed his hand before he could touch it. “Don’t contaminate our only lead.”

  He snarled and rocked back on his heels. “We don’t need the publicity.” Several of the onlookers had their cell phones pointed in our direction, and the paparazzi were snapping shots like there was no tomorrow.

  “Fine.” I looked around. The drone was large and bulky. “Take off your jacket, toss it over this thing, and let’s move it inside.” I would have suggested he try not to damage it, but he shot the damn thing out of the air. It was too late for that.

  He did as I said and carried it back inside. A member of his team was already speaking to hotel security. Scar promised he’d be back in a moment to discuss matters. We waited for the elevator, rode up to Dinah’s floor, and went into the adjacent suite.

  Ty knelt at Dinah’s feet, asking her questions. Scar put the drone on top of the table and shook out his jacket. His eyes found Dinah’s, and I watched the unspoken exchange. She gave him a tight smile and a small nod, and he disappeared out the door. I studied the drone, hoping to determine if it was still broadcasting.

  Ty climbed to his feet and stood beside me. “The lights aren’t on. I don’t see any indication any part of it is operational.” He nudged me. “How could this toy break a window?”

  I pointed to the taped area. “I can’t be positive, but that looks like the tip of an emergency hammer.” He reached for it, and I batted his arm away. “Don’t touch.” I was starting to feel like a museum curator dealing with kindergarteners.

  He withdrew his hand. “It looks spring-loaded.”

  “Probably. I doubt this flying contraption could be launched at the window with enough force on its own to cause the glass to shatter.” A thought crossed my mind. “I need the key to Dinah’s suite.” He handed it to me. “Wait here.”

  I went back inside. The phone was off the hook, and I replaced it before moving into the bedroom. Tiny glass pieces littered the carpet. No sharp shards. The few pieces that remained around the frame practically crumbled under my gaze. Tempered glass. The window had probably been marked by one of those dark stickers in the top corner. The drone operator had been staking out Dinah’s window for a while, saw the telltale fire safety designation, and got creative.

  When I returned to the security suite, Dinah was in front of the drone. Her hand shook slightly as she pointed at it. “What would be the point of breaking the window?”

  “To scare you or deliver some kind of message.”

  She looked at it. “I don’t see anything.”

  “You might have if Scar didn’t shoot it out of the sky,” I muttered.

  “He was just doing his job,” she insisted.

  “It was a threat. He addressed it,” Ty added.

  “Yeah.” I narrowed my eyes and fought the overwhelming urge to cover the entire thing in tinfoil. The first thing I needed to determine was the range on this thing.

  Dinah paced the room. “Ty, will you check to see what the hotel is going to do about this?” He gave me an uncertain look. “We’ll be fine. Alex won’t let anything happen to me.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He wrote his number on the hotel stationery and handed it to me. “In case anything else goes wrong.”

  “Thanks.”

  She waited for the door to close before speaking. “You dove on top of me.”

  “Sorry. Reflex.”

  “Not many people would do something like that.”

  “Your security team would.”

  “Regardless, thank you.”<
br />
  “No need.” I took a seat on the couch. Cross or someone from the office would be here momentarily. After back-up arrived, we’d have a better chance of canvassing the area. Someone must have seen something. With all those cameras outside, one of them must have caught something useful. “You didn’t happen to notice this thing hovering outside your window when you got dressed.”

  “Do you think one of the paps was looking for a money shot?”

  “Could be.”

  “But you doubt it.”

  I shrugged.

  “I think my stalker found a new way to keep tabs on me,” she declared. “Do you think he meant to break the window?”

  “We’ll know more once this thing is dismantled. My people are prepared to deal with this, but I’m not sure Scar wants to turn it over. It’s up to you.”

  “I’ve seen your labs. You are in a much better position than we are. My security detail won’t be a problem.” She looked around the room before letting her gaze settle on me. “Not to sound dramatic, but now what do I do? I can’t stay here. At the very least, I can’t stay in my room. And quite frankly, I don’t think I want to be in this hotel.”

  “Doesn’t your security team have contingencies in place?”

  “You’re looking at it. They move me to a secure location, and we shelter in place until the threat is identified and removed.”

  It sounded like someone read the Secret Service handbook. It was a sound plan, if one didn’t consider how freaked out and agitated Dinah was. She hadn’t stopped fidgeting.

  “You dove on top of me,” she said.

  “Yes, we established this. I’m sorry if I wrinkled your blouse.” I didn’t know why she felt the need to repeat it.

  She ignored my glibness. “Why?”

  “Again with the questions? Didn’t you already determine I’m a lunatic? It’s probably part of my crazy personality. Some people find it endearing.”