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“Have I?” she asked with a frown.
I nodded.
“Okay, well that’s good. I’ve got to go.”
“Yeah, sure. Good luck with the fame thing.”
She smiled widely. “Thanks,” she chirped, obviously not catching the heavy dose of sarcasm I was injecting into that statement.
I watched her strut her twentysomething self into the hoard of photographers for a beat and then faced the building, trying to figure out my next move.
The police cruiser amongst the vans had me amping up my thought process. It wouldn’t take long for my detective friends to chat with Monica, and I was sure she’d be less than a tough nut to crack. And I was sure that they would be interviewing Keltan, if they hadn’t already.
Knowledge of moustache man, the security tapes and the trail of breadcrumbs would soon be trampled on by police issue shoes.
I needed to get my Manolos on that trail before that happened.
I took a deep breath, retrieved my phone and, after a quick search, found the number I was looking for.
While I was listening to the dial tone, I walked back towards my car, thinking over everything that had been said so far.
It wasn’t measuring up to be an overly complicated situation. Plus, I liked to watch a lot of cheesy crime shows in my spare time. Apart from the classic movies that were my therapy, they were the only TV I watched.
Oh, and Vikings, because Travis Fimmel. And Clive Standen.
It seemed like Lucinda had done what a lot of people in Hollywood had—a variety of narcotics, in large quantities and often. It wasn’t a secret she’d been in rehab.
Twice.
Anyone who was anyone had been in rehab.
Substance abuse was chic, apparently.
It didn’t go well with my style, so I stayed away from all of that. I already had an addictive personality; one only had to look at my closet and caffeine consumption to understand that. No way was I adding something as life-ruining as drugs to that.
Love was the worst drug of all, and that had already ruined everything.
My step stuttered. Did I just think the word “love?”
“Good morning, Greenstone Security. You’re speaking with Rita,” a cheerful voice sounded in my ear, chasing away the dreaded L-word.
For now, at least.
It would take a lot more than a cheery voice at the end of the phone to banish it forever.
I worried it would take a man with bad shoes reeking of Old Spice and a scary knife to do that.
Because I would be too.
On that morbid thought, I shrugged off my sense of foreboding and the strange tickle at the back of my neck like someone was watching me and continued to my car. “Hello, I’m just calling to see if Keltan is currently in the office,” I asked.
If he was, I was hanging up quicker than you could say “kiwi with a six pack who should come with a warning sign.” My plans all hinged on him not being in the office. Badass security bosses didn’t sit behind desks, even before nine in the morning. They were out securing things and spreading the badass hotness and shit.
“No, sorry, Mr. Brooke is out for the morning on assignment,” Rita replied, apology in her voice. “Can I take a message? Or can I help at all? Schedule you in for a meeting? Is this a security matter?”
I smiled. I liked Rita. Rita seemed extremely helpful. “No, it’s fine. I was actually hoping to talk to someone this morning. I was recommended….” I tried to remember the name of Mr. Tall, Dark and Mute from the crime scene. I did well with names usually, but dead bodies distracted me. “Heath,” I said. “I know this is a total long shot, but I’m kind of desperate.”
It wasn’t a lie. Just not for security. Rita did not need to know that.
“Let me see Heath’s schedule,” she said, a tapping of keys in the background filling the pause. “Right, well it seems you’re in luck. Heath is in the office for a short time today, but he was a right bear with a sore head to me this morning, and you sound like you’re in need, dear.”
I grinned as I approached my car. “You could say that’s exactly what I am.”
“Well, he’s free in about forty minutes for less than fifteen. Not ideal but—”
“I’ll make it work, Rita,” I said warmly. “Thank you. You’re a lifesaver.”
She gave me the address when I asked, which was conveniently a thirty-minute drive away.
Yeah, the universe may have been screwing with my heart, but it was looking out for my career. Maybe not my life, if you looked at me chasing over a murderer as dangerous, but it was the safer kind of danger than the monotony of what I’d had before.
The offices of Greenstone Security were not in a swanky part of Beverly Hills like one might expect the ‘it’ security company to the stars to be. Then again, they were new, and rent at such locations probably ran a little high.
