Eeny Meany Miny Die (Cat Sinclair Mysteries) Page 18

  "Will's a good guy," she said.

  "I know."

  "No. I mean, he's one of the best there is. He's amazing. He's thoughtful and generous. There's not a selfish bone in his body."

  Christ. She was in love with him. This was going to be awkward.

  She tugged on the cuffs of her cardigan. It was almost a hundred outside, but she still wore long sleeves. "The best thing about him is he doesn't expect anything in return. A lot of people give money to charity, but they expect acknowledgement out of it, even if it's just a thanks. Most don't want to get their hands dirty. They prefer to give money and be done with it. But not Will. He genuinely helps people."

  "I know that, Faith. Where are you going with this?"

  "Be nice to him."

  "I am nice." Usually.

  "Yes, but…" She sighed. "He's worried about you and he shouldn't be. It's not fair. He doesn't need the extra crap."

  Wow, slap me while I'm down. "Faith, are you trying to tell me you want him for yourself?"

  "No!" She held up her hands. "Our relationship isn't like that. It never has been. I'm not a rival, Cat."

  So she did know about us. I wasn't surprised. We hadn't been overly discreet. "Okay, I've cracked. I've got to ask, what exactly is your relationship with Will?"

  "I'm surprised it took you this long. If he was my boyfriend, I'd want to know how he knew the new secretary."

  "I was trying to restrain myself. Curiosity, cats, and all that."

  She formed her mouth into an O and blew out a breath. "I've never told anyone this, so here goes. Will arrested me."

  "He what?"

  "Back when he was a cop, he arrested me for possession."

  Oh-kay. So Faith was a user. I'd never have guessed it. To me, drug users were people like Cindy or Max. Psychos, bitches, and losers. They weren't nice or mousy like Faith.

  "I did some time for it, and when I got out, I tried to start a new life. I really tried. But it was tough to get work and my family didn't want to know me anymore. I couldn't make ends meet, and I went back to my old boyfriend. He was my supplier. He took care of me, in a way. Problem was, I was back to where I started. I got arrested again. Will found out and came to see me in prison. He'd retired from the force by then."

  "Why did he visit you?"

  "The first time he arrested me, I'd fought against him. I hit him and scratched him pretty bad, but he never hit me back. He never hurt me. He just took every one of my blows without a struggle. No one had ever done that before. Men have beaten me up my whole life. My dad, my brother, my boyfriend." She rubbed her hand along her arm. I was beginning to think the cardigan sleeves hid needle tracks.

  She didn't quite meet my gaze, but she didn't need to for me to know she told the truth. The sincerity was in her voice. This was tough for her. It was a big deal. I appreciated her opening up to me.

  "Go on," I said gently.

  "I respected him for it and later, in the squad car, I apologized for the scratches. I told him I wanted to make it up to him. I offered him…services." Her face blushed fiercely. No need to elaborate on which services she was referring to. "He told me all I needed to do was stay clean when I got released and he'd be satisfied. But I didn't. I never forgot that promise though, and it ate at me when I got arrested the second time. I felt like I failed him. Not myself, but Will. When he came to visit me, I made him another promise and this time I meant to stick to it. But he said it was okay, that I shouldn't blame myself. He told me he knew that it had been tough the first time, because no one had helped me. So he offered to employ me when I got out again. I thought he meant cleaning his house or something. I never expected to be his secretary." She gave me a watery, wobbly smile. "This is my first ever real job."

  "And you're awesome at it. Seriously, I was so bad at it that Will fired me."

  Her smile broke into a grin. "I have found the filing to be a bit strange. Why is the Rice and Reece case filed under T?"

  "T for Turds. They were assholes. Really, T is too good for them. They should've been relegated to U for Utter Bastards."

  She laughed. I'd never seen her laugh before. It brought a smile to my face too, despite my misery. "I hated being a secretary. I needed to find some way to amuse myself," I told her. "So did you learn kickboxing in prison?"

  She nodded. "I decided I needed to learn to protect myself the second time round. I didn't want to continue to be a victim when I got out. They offered classes inside."

  She sobered and glanced over her shoulder at the door. "I should get back."

  "Will won't fire you for talking to me. It took a lot for him to fire me. A lot."

  "I won't take advantage of his good nature."

  Damn. The way she said it made me feel like I was. "I don't want to hurt his feelings," I said quickly.

  "Then accept that he's going to worry about you and find a way to deal with it. I'm sorry if this isn't something you want to hear, Cat, but Will is going to do everything he can to keep you safe because he adores you. It's obvious to anyone who sees you two together."

  I clenched my teeth and nodded. I didn't want to say anything I'd regret, or tell her too much about my own feelings. She was clearly on Will's side.

  She stood, but paused at the door. "And if you don't feel for him the same way he feels for you, then maybe you should let him go. It's the honorable thing to do." She dipped her head as if she felt bad for saying it, then left.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat, but it didn't stop the tears welling in my eyes. She was right about one thing—it wasn't what I wanted to hear.

  CHAPTER 13

  Will went out to give Slim his report on Clive Bankler. With so little to tell him, I suspected it was going to be a short meeting, but he was gone all afternoon. Faith left at five. I hung around and eventually called Will at five-thirty.

  He didn't pick up. Either he was avoiding my calls or the meeting went longer than expected. Maybe, just maybe, he was in some kind of trouble and couldn't answer. Then again, Will wasn't me. He never got into trouble. Still, I kind of understood why he always worried about me when I didn't answer my phone.

  I got a call ten minutes later, but it was from Jen.

  "Hey, Cat, you hungry?"

  "I guess. Why?"

  "I thought we could get something to eat together."

  "Just the two of us?"

  "All of us," she said. "We thought it would be a good time to chat about the progress you've made with the case."

  "Can I ask Gina along? I promised her we'd go out tonight." Not quite the truth. We'd planned on having a drink together, not dinner, but I was going to take Will's advice to heart. If I couldn't get him to come with me, then Gina would be a good backup. She had a mean left hook. Besides, we'd be in a public restaurant.

  Jenny's voice went faint for a moment as she spoke to someone in the background. She came back on the line a moment later. "Sure, that's fine. Bring her along. Angel's paying."

  The evening was suddenly looking up. "There's a nice restaurant not far from your hotel called Bon Nuit. Meet you there at seven?"

  "We'll make a reservation now. See you later."

  I hung up and packed my things into my bag and locked the office door. I headed into Gina's flower shop as she was turning off the lights.

  "Great," she said when I told her about dinner. "As long as they have alcohol, I don't mind where we eat."

  On the drive to my place, I told her about my talk with Will. "So I don't know where I stand now," I finished.

  "It seems to me that you stand exactly where you've always stood since you started dating. He loves you, you're not sure yet. Give it time. It'll all work out."

  "Is it fair to string him along only to break up with him if I decide he's not the one?"

  "If Will doesn't think it's fair, then he'll do something about it. Until then, stop worrying. Just enjoy yourself."

  That was her motto for life. I wasn't sure it was mine. Maybe once, in L.A., but not anymore
.

  "What about you?" I asked. "I feel like I've been neglecting you lately. How's your love life?"

  She squared her shoulders and thrust out her chin like she was about to tackle an unpleasant task. "I'm going to ask Ben out on a date."

  "You're going to ask a guy out?" Gina never did the asking. She didn't have to. They always came to her, sometimes on their knees, begging.

  "If I don't, I'll die wondering what might have been."

  "Or you could just wait until he asks you."

  "I might be waiting forever." She parked outside my apartment building and turned to face me. She looked sadder than I'd seen her in a long time. It wasn't like Gina. She was the bubbly one, the one who loved life and men, and had confidence in abundance.

  "Oh, Gina." I reached over and drew her into a hug. "What's wrong?"

  She buried her face in my shoulder. If she cried, she did it silently. It was about the only time she ever did anything without making noise. "Why did he dump me?"

  "Who?"

  "Walter."

  "The computer programmer? I thought you broke up with him."

  "I just told you that because I was too embarrassed to admit that I got dumped by a guy like that." She sniffed and sat back. Tears streaked her cheeks and I wiped them away for her. "He told me I was too much for him. What does that even mean?"

  "I think it means that a guy 'like that' needs someone more like him. Someone who doesn't make him feel inferior just by walking next to him."

  "You're not making sense, but it is making me feel better." She gave a short laugh. "Keep talking."

  "He was going to be forever worrying that you would leave him because he wasn't exciting enough, or that some hot guy would whisk you away. He just decided to fire off a pre-emptive strike."

  She pulled a face. "Dating isn't war."

  "It feels like it sometimes."

  We both giggled, but quickly turned serious as we realized the truth of it.

  ***

  Bon Nuit was a new restaurant that the owners had labeled chic, casual dining. Basically it had an unpronounceable menu, expensive wine list, and minimalist decor. The members of Play Group were already waiting for us when we arrived fifteen minutes late. They didn't seem to mind and greeted us with welcoming smiles.

  "That hot boyfriend not with you tonight, Cat?" Taylor asked as the waiter left with our drink order.

  "Will's busy tonight," I said, using all my acting skills to feign nonchalance. The truth was, I did care. He hadn't answered any of my calls. Where the hell was he?

  "Pity," Angel said. "But lucky for us, because we get to enjoy the company of Gina instead." She tossed Gina a smile and Gina returned it.

  Angel looked beautiful. Her blonde hair was slicked back, and she wore a silver dress cut low at the front. Corey couldn't keep his eyes off her. In fact, neither could Taylor or Jen. They shared secret smiles with her when she glanced at them, which she did often, and neither could stop touching her. Sometimes it was just her hand or shoulder, but once, Jen fixed her hair for her. Unless Jen had changed her orientation in the past couple years, there was nothing sexual in it. The same with Taylor. Nevertheless, it was weird.

  "So tell us how the case against Cindy is going," Angel said.

  Since when had it become that? "The evidence is mounting up nicely." It was a complete lie, but I had to say something. The truth was, I felt like I'd gotten nowhere. Writing up my report that afternoon had made me notice the gaps in my knowledge, and there was one very big gap that needed filling.

  Why did Frank carry around bank details that pointed to his fraud, and photos of Taylor that were two years old when he wasn't blackmailing him over them?

  Unless he wasn't carrying them with him and they were planted there deliberately. But why? For the police to find them? If that was the case, then that exonerated both Jenny and Taylor, since they were implicated by both pieces of evidence.

  Since Angel had the easiest access to the room, Frank's accounts and the photos, she seemed the most likely suspect, but why would she want to implicate her friends? She clearly adored all the members of the group.

  It didn't make sense, unless she was acting the part of their adoring friend. It was possible, although it was quite a role to play, particularly if Cindy was right and Angel wasn't the most accomplished actress to grace Tinseltown.

  It wasn't an unpleasant dinner. Everybody was lovely and the conversations lively. Angel held court like a queen, telling stories that had everyone in stitches of laughter, and some that weren't remotely funny but had her friends laughing anyway as if they couldn't bear to offend her. Or maybe they were just drunk.

  I found it difficult to join in. My conversation with Will played on my mind. I tried to push thoughts of him away so I could concentrate on studying the group members together, but it wasn't easy.

  At least Gina seemed to be enjoying herself, especially after her second glass of wine. She giggled right along with the rest of them.

  Finally I managed to trap Angel by the corner sink in the bathroom after dinner as she reapplied her lip gloss. I was tired and wanted to go home, so I cut straight to the point.

  "I've been thinking," I said to her reflection in the mirror as I washed my hands.

  "Always dangerous." She laughed.

  "Don't you think the things the police found in Frank's case are a bit strange?"

  Her gloss wand paused at her pursed lips for a fleeting moment before she continued to reapply. "How so?" she asked without moving her lips.

  "Why would he be carrying around his bank details?"

  She replaced the wand in her lip gloss and screwed it down. I expected her to return it to her handbag, but she didn't. She held onto it and turned her palms up. "Your guess is as good as mine. He never talked to me about business matters. I'm sure he had a reason though."

  "And the photos of Taylor too. What would he want with those? They were taken two years ago."

  Her gaze connected with mine in the mirror. "Taylor told you that?"

  I nodded.

  She toyed with the lip gloss container, twisting it between her fingers. Her gaze didn't leave mine. I felt trapped in her eyes, like I couldn't look away even if I wanted to. There was something compellingly beautiful about them. They were a baby blue, unlike any eye shade I'd ever seen before, and their depths seemed to go on forever.

  "Then it must be true," she said with a cute smile. "Taylor wouldn't lie. He's as honest as the day is long. Never done a thing wrong in his life. Well, maybe he stole a Slurpee or two from the 7-Eleven where he worked before Play Group, but we all did that in our old day jobs, right?" She winked at me and I relaxed a little.

  My question hadn't rattled her at all. If I had to guess, she was telling the truth.

  Still, she was the most likely person to have planted the photos in Frank's case. If he hadn't put them there himself, that is. I tried a couple more questions.

  "So Taylor would never have sex with a minor?"

  She gasped in so much air that she began to choke. One hand patted her chest and the other flapped in front of her face. "Of course not! No way."

  "I just wondered if that's why there were photos of Taylor at all. He told me they were dangerous because he was gay, but I'm not sure it would create the stir he's implying. Not these days. Maybe the photos are such a big deal because the other guy was a minor."

  "Jesus, Cat," she said. Her flapping and patting stopped. Now one hand rested on her hip while the other made imploring gestures to me, much like Gina and the Italian half of her family during an argument. Now there was a family who knew how to gesticulate. Cut off their hands and they wouldn't be able to form a coherent sentence.

  I was beginning to wonder if Cindy was right and Angel over-compensated with her hands when she was acting. If so, then she was lying. Her hands had taken over ever since I began my questioning.

  "Look," she said, fixing those eyes on me again and sucking me into their depths. "I never saw tho
se photos of Taylor, but I'm sure the police will inspect them closely. If blowing them up can reveal the face of the other guy, then they'll be able to identify him. If he does turn out to be a minor—" She cut herself off with a wild chopping motion. "No, he won't be. Taylor wouldn't do that. He just wouldn't."

  "You're right. Of course. Taylor is a great guy. All the members of the group are great. I can see why you're such good friends."

  "Yeah, we are. It might seem a little too close to some outsiders, but when we’re touring a lot, it's inevitable that we would rely on each other so much."

  "That's why I'm surprised Jenny never spoke to you about Frank's investment scheme until recently."

  She frowned. "But she did. She told me when she decided to let Frank invest her money. You must be mistaken. Ask her again."

  "Oh. Okay. I'm sure you're right and I've misremembered." Either she or Jenny were lying then, because Jen told me she'd only just informed Angel.

  "We discussed the high risk factor," Angel went on. "But she went ahead with it, because the return would be excellent if it came through."

  "You explained all that to her?"

  "I didn't need to. She's actually quite clever. The dumb thing is a bit of an act."

  Were we discussing the same person? I almost contradicted her, but bit my tongue. I didn't want her to suspect I knew she was lying. This time I was positive. I'd known Jenny for years. She had as much common sense as a seven-year-old. In fact, most seven-year-olds were sponges. Jenny had trouble remembering the simplest lines for her auditions.

  "My asshole of a husband didn't tell her it was a fake company he was investing in," Angel went on. She glanced in the mirror and touched her finger to each corner of her mouth. "I can't believe he'd do that to her. To his client and my friend!" Finally she stroked her hair, shot me a smile, and headed toward the door.

  I followed her back out to the restaurant. We were still some several feet away from our table when all the members of Play Group turned as one and beamed at her.

  I wanted to get the other members alone too, but Corey was the only one I managed to separate. That's probably because I hooked my arm through his as soon as we got up from the table to leave, and I held him back for a slow walk out of the restaurant.