Skin and Blond (Blond Noir Mysteries Book 1) Page 11
When I got to the office, I was really early, and Brigit wasn’t coming in since it was Sunday. I checked to see if there were hits on any of the credit cards, but there weren’t. Idly, I decided to take a peek at Madison’s phone. I scrolled through text messages for a while, but nothing jumped out at me. I decided to try to broaden my horizons. I’d go into her email and social media.
But Madison hadn’t ever set up her email in her phone. When I clicked on the email app, it asked me to sign in, which I couldn’t do. She didn’t have twitter on her phone, and her Facebook app didn’t work. I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with it. I tried it three or four times. Every time I would attempt to open the app, it would simply sit there on a screen that had the Facebook logo for five minutes. Then the screen would turn black.
Frustrated, I went in and uninstalled the app and reinstalled it.
But then—duh—it wanted me to sign in, and I didn’t know Madison’s information.
Her laptop was password protected, and I wasn’t any good at cracking that kind of stuff.
I made a phone call.
The phone rang a few times, and then someone answered, “Yeah.”
“Eden?” I said.
“Yeah.”
“It’s Ivy. I’m in need of your expertise.”
“Now?”
“Well, it doesn’t have to be right at this second but fairly soon, yeah.”
“Okay.” And the phone went dead.
I took my phone away from my ear and made a face at the receiver.
Ten minutes later, Eden Foxcroft appeared in my office. I hadn’t seen Eden in a few months, and she always looked different. She liked to change her hair a lot. Right now, it was dyed dark brown with a few strands of purple in it. She had it cut around her shoulders in an angular cut—shorter in the back.
She grinned. “Hi, Ivy!” And then she wanted to hug.
When Eden was aware of her surroundings, she was hyper and fun, bubblegum excited. But when she zoned in on stuff, she was the monosyllabic person she’d been on the phone. I must have interrupted her earlier.
I extricated myself from the hug. “Sorry if I caught you at a busy time.”
“Oh, no,” she said. “I was playing this game is all. I’m all yours.” She was still grinning, and I swear her eyes were twinkling. She was like a cyber elf.
“Well, I’ve got a case. Girl disappeared, but left behind her phone and computer. We got into the phone, but I can’t access anything other than her text messages and call log. No email or social media or anything. I figure all of that would be on the computer, but it’s password protected. You think you could get it cracked for me?” I dug out Madison’s laptop and held it up.
Eden held out her hand for it.
I handed it to her.
She opened the computer and turned it on. Immediately, the password screen came up. “Sure. Shouldn’t take too long.”
“You don’t have to do it right now,” I said. “You can take it back to your office with you and charge me your typical hourly rate, you know.”
She shut the laptop. “Okay. Cool.”
Eden was my old college roommate. We had met by chance when we were stuck together sophomore year, but we’d quickly discovered that we got along great and had gotten an apartment together the following year. We were both problem solvers, and we were both just a little off-center. We weren’t exactly like everyone else, that was for sure. If I had a best friend, it would be Eden. Of course, we didn’t really see each other much now that we weren’t roommates.
“I swear,” I said, “it’s like you’re allergic to making money.”
“I’m not,” she said. “I just forget about it. Besides, it’s not that big a deal. If I need money, I can get money.”
Eden was pretty talented at her computer stuff, whatever it was she did. She didn’t exactly have a business, but people did pay her for various services. Sometimes, she seemed to get big windfalls of money from some project or other.
She wasn’t secretive about that stuff, but she was incapable of explaining it in English, so I really had no idea how it all worked. I just knew that she occasionally helped me out with my detective work, and when she did, I made sure to pay her. I figured we self-employed types should help each other out whenever possible.
Eden tucked the laptop into her messenger bag. “So, how are you doing?”
“Fine,” I said.
She raised her eyebrows. “Come on, don’t bullshit me. You’re upset about something. I can tell. I know you.”
I shrugged. I wandered over to the waiting area of the outer office and sat down in one of the chairs. “Pike came by last night and said he wanted me to be the mother of his children.”
“Whoa.” Eden sat down opposite me. “Isn’t that a good thing? I mean, isn’t that what you want?”
I shot her a disbelieving look. “I don’t want… Can you see me being a mother?”
She shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Really?”
She made a face at me. “I just don’t get it. Seriously, Miles Pike is like your soul mate, and you don’t want to be with him?”
“I don’t believe in soul mates. I didn’t think you did either.”
She shrugged. “Well, maybe not for me, but for you?”
I arched an eyebrow at her.
She giggled mischievously, twirling a stand of purple hair around her finger.
“I don’t know. It just really shook me up.”
“Of course he shook you up. He’s your soul mate.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “Stop it.”
She got up and gave me another hug. “Sorry it’s bugging you.”
This time I liked the hug. “It’s okay. I’ll be all right.”
She pulled back. “You know, Ivy, I’ve told you this before, but I really think that you could be happy if you’d just get out of your own way.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Seriously,” she said. “There’s nothing wrong with you except that you think that there’s something wrong with you.”
“Well, that’s not confusing,” I muttered.
“If you stopped feeling guilty and worrying so much, maybe you could focus on actually living your life the way you want to. You could find happiness.”
“Who says I’m not happy, huh? Why don’t you just work on fixing that laptop instead of fixing me?”
“That’s what I’m saying. You don’t need fixing.” But she raised her hands in surrender. “But I get it. I’ll leave it alone. You’ve got to do what you’ve got to do, I guess.”
* * *
I was back at Happy’s, talking to the hostess. “I’m just wondering if Brian is here,” I said.
“You don’t want a table?” The hostess seemed confused.
“No, I’ve been here a couple of times. You might remember seeing me?”
“I remember you were here for breakfast.”
“I’m a private detective. I’m looking into the disappearance of Madison Webb.”
“Who?”
“Madison Webb. She worked here. She was a waitress.”
“Really?”
“That’s not the point. Seriously, is Brian here?”
The hostess chewed on her thumbnail, unsure. “I don’t know.”
“Can you check?”
“Okay,” she said. She walked back into the depths of the restaurant.
I stared up at the ceiling, feeling annoyed.
Several minutes later, the hostess returned. “Yeah, he’s here.”
Great. At least something was going well. “Well, did you ask him if he could talk to me?”
“You didn’t tell me to do that.”
I rolled my eyes. “Never mind.” I pushed past the hostess. “Where is he?”
“In the back…” She pointed.
I stalked through the restaurant, pushing through the door that said Employees Only and emerging in the kitchen. The room was big and hot, lined with ovens on one wall an
d a ten-burner stove plus a big stainless steel sink on the other. It was crowded full of people who were all wearing hairnets and bending over food, whether they were chopping it, stirring it, or putting it in an oven.
“Where’s Brian?” I said.
A man’s head popped up. He was in his mid-twenties, and he had red hair. “Hello?”
I went over to him. “Brian? Are you Brian?”
“Who are you?” he said.
“My name’s Ivy Stern. I just wondered if I could ask you a few questions.”
“Questions.” He knitted his eyebrows together.
“Yes, about Madison Webb.”
Alarm shot across Brian’s face. He swallowed hard. “Who the hell are you? Why are you here?”
“I’m looking into her disappearance. She’s been gone for ten days, and I just want to find her or find out what happened to her.”
“Well, I don’t know that.” He wouldn’t look at me. “I haven’t seen her, and I wouldn’t know where she is. But she’s fired from this job, because she blew off like four shifts in a row, and she wouldn’t answer her phone. And that’s all I know about it.”
“I’m wondering if you knew anything about Madison and drugs? I’ve heard that you wanted her to take a drug test. That true?”
“Look, I don’t have time to talk to you.” He glared at me.
“Okay,” I said. This kitchen did seem pretty busy. “That’s fine. When would be a better time?”
“I don’t actually see why you want to talk to me at all. I really don’t know anything about Madison Webb.”
“Well, it’s just a few questions.” I gave him my most reassuring smile. “It really won’t take too long. Tell me when would be a good time to come back.”
He shook his head. “No, you know what? I don’t want to do this at all.”
“Look, it’s really not a big deal,” I said. “I promise to be brief.”
“Get out of this kitchen,” he said.
“Would tomorrow be better?”
He smiled tightly. “Get out of here now, or I’ll have you thrown out.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Well, maybe I’ll try you again later. Maybe you’ll be in a better mood.”
“It’s not about mood, lady, it’s about you not respecting boundaries. You are not welcome back here.”
I nodded. “Sure. Talk to you soon.” I left the kitchen.
“Hey,” he called after me. “Don’t come back here.”
I shut the kitchen door behind me.
Well, that Brian guy was obviously hiding something. I was going to be all over him from now on.
I left the restaurant in much higher spirits than I had been. I might actually be getting somewhere with this case after all.
* * *
But when I got to my car in the parking lot of the restaurant, I was stunned to see that Colin Pugliano was leaning up against it.
Shit.
I needed to get rid of him, but how? I debated my options, and then I decided to play it cold and annoyed, like I just didn’t have time for someone as insignificant as him.
Glaring, I approached the car. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Hey, Ivy.” He looked nervous. “I knew you weren’t happy when I showed up at your office, so I didn’t bother you there again. I followed you here instead.”
“You followed me?” I pressed my lips into a severe line, so that he could see that I wasn’t amused.
“We need to talk.” He gave me a pleading look.
I shook my head briskly. “Sorry, Colin, but we really don’t.” I tried to move past him, so that I could get into my car.
He blocked my path. “Now, come on, just hear me out.”
“Please let me by.” I struggled to keep my voice cold. Inside, I was starting to get a little freaked out. I didn’t like the way he was physically stopping me from getting away from him. It wasn’t a good sign at all.
“Come on a drive with me.” He spread his hands. “Just a drive. We’ll talk for a little bit, and then I’ll bring you back to your car.”
“We don’t have anything to talk about,” I said.
“Now, that just isn’t true,” he said. “You and me, we have something going on. I know you’re in denial about it, but you are really some kind of woman. The other night, when I ran into you—”
“I was really drunk,” I said. “I don’t actually remember what happened. Trust me when I tell you that everything between us has been a mistake. I don’t want to have anything to do with you.”
“Sure, that’s what you say, but I know differently. I can feel it. When we’re close, just like we are now, there are… sparks.”
“No,” I said. “There aren’t. Now, let me by.”
“Come on, Ivy, just come on a drive.”
“No,” I said.
“Then we’ll talk about it right here.” He reached for me.
I backed up. “Don’t touch me.”
“That’s not what you said the other night.”
“Well, like I said, I was drunk that night. I could have said anything.”
“Listen, I’ve been looking for a woman like you—”
“You don’t know anything about me,” I said. “And I haven’t been looking for a man like you.”
He sighed heavily. “Oh, come on, Ivy. When are you going to drop this act? You try to play this uptight role, but I know what you are.” He touched my chest. “I know what’s inside you.”
I seized his wrist. “I said not to touch me.”
He shook me off, and it wasn’t hard for him at all. He grabbed me by the shoulders and pulled me close. Staring into my eyes, he said, “I know just how passionate you are. You’re a wild woman. You don’t have to be ashamed of that. You don’t have to run from it. You can embrace it. I want you to embrace it. I want you.”
“Well, I don’t want you.” My voice came out as a squeak, because I was trying to get free from his grasp and having no luck whatsoever. He was too strong.
I didn’t carry a gun as a private investigator. I was having trouble with some nasty people with connections to the department holding up my permit for a firearm. Generally speaking, it wasn’t a problem because I didn’t run into any really dangerous situations in my work. But right now, I was cursing the fact that I wasn’t packing. Not because I would have shot Colin, but because I could have used that gun to let him know just how serious I was.
Colin thought we were flirting. He thought we were playing a little game, that I was saying no when I really meant yes. I couldn’t get him to understand that I really did mean no. It was harder to make it stick when I’d said yes twice before. I got why he was confused, but that wasn’t really my problem. I needed away from him, and now.
“You are going to come on a drive with me,” he said.
My heart was thudding in my chest. “No. You need to let go of me.”
“I’m not going to let go of you, sweetheart. I’m holding on tight.”
“Please, Colin.” My voice cracked, and my fear leaked out.
He didn’t seem to notice. He pressed his lips against mine.
I bit them.
He swore, pulling back.
I struggled, trying to get free.
He chuckled, holding tight. “Oh, we’re going to play it like that, are we? Okay, well, that’s fine with me. I like that kind of game.”
“Not a game, Colin. I am dead serious. I don’t want to go anywhere with you. Now, let go of me.” I aimed a kick at one of his shins.
He laughed again, evading me. He yanked me close, turning my body so that my back was against his front. He pinned me against him, and I couldn’t move.
I was terrified. How had this gotten so bad so fast? Here I was being totally dominated by a mob flunky, and I didn’t know what was going to happen to me.
He threw me inside his car, into the back seat.
I scrabbled to sit up, to get the door open.
But he was in the front seat, screechin
g out of the parking lot before I even had a chance.
I yanked at the door handle anyway. I’d throw myself out of a moving car. We weren’t going that fast yet.
But the door wouldn’t open.
“Child protection locks,” said Colin.
I swallowed. “What are you doing, Colin? You kidnapping me?”
He just laughed.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Colin pulled the car into the back lot of Shamrock’s bar, a notorious hangout for the O’Shaunessys. He opened up the back door and yanked me out of the back seat.
“What are we doing here?” I said.
“We’re going to talk, like I said.” He tugged me through the back door.
We emerged into a room full of pool tables. There was a dart board on one wall. The room was mostly empty, but there were a few guys at one of the pool tables. They looked up at us, and I recognized one of them as Derek O’Shaunessy.
From the way he stiffened, I was pretty sure that he recognized me as well.
But Colin didn’t pay them any mind. He pulled me out of the back room, through another door, down a dark hallway, and inside another smaller room. He shut the door behind us and flicked on the light.
The room had a sagging couch along one wall and a sink and fridge on the other. It was like some kind of break room for the employees who worked here or something.
Colin pushed me down on the couch.
“What the hell?” I managed. I wanted to sound outraged, but my voice was trembling. It was obvious that I was terrified. This wasn’t cool. I was completely out of control, and I was trapped in this room with this guy, who wasn’t exactly trustworthy. I had no idea what he was going to do to me.
Colin tackled me, pressing my body down into the couch, all of his hard, muscled girth jamming against me.
The breath went out of me. I was startled.
His lips were at my neck, his hands underneath my shirt.
I tried to push his hands away. “Colin, please. What do you think you’re doing?”
He grinned at me. “I can’t keep my hands off you. Every time I see you, I want you again. You are such a sexy little slut.”
“Stop it,” I said, but my voice didn’t carry any authority. I was terrified—scared out of my mind. I was going to get raped on a couch in the back room of Shamrock’s bar, and there wasn’t anything that I was going to be able to do about it.