Addison
TUESDAY, JUST BEFORE noon, my doorbell rang and I glanced at Dylan, who shrugged. I checked the peephole and dropped my head to the door, dragging in several deep breaths.
“Who is it?” Dylan called.
I rushed into the living room. “It’s Jake!” I squeaked in horror, glancing in the mirror to gauge how much work I needed to do. “You get it. I need to fix my hair.”
“Jake... as in Detective Parker?” Dylan eyed the door like it might spontaneously combust.
“The one and tasty.” I tugged a few stray hairs into place and decided I needed a brush.
She retreated a step. “What if he’s here to take me back to jail?”
I ran into my bathroom and grabbed the first brush I saw. “He’s alone. He probably would have brought backup if he was planning to take you in.”
“Addie—”
“It’ll be fine. I’ll get my gun as soon as I finish my hair.” I started wrestling my hair into submission, spritzing something to add shine on it.
“You’ll get your gun? What are we, Thelma and Louise?”
“Please, Dylan.”
Dylan groaned. “Your priorities suck.”
The doorbell sounded again
“Just get the door!”
“‘Get the door,’ she says. ‘The big bad wolf is pretty,’ she says,” Dylan muttered.
I giggled, dabbing concealer under my eyes before heading for my closet. I was currently wearing sweats and a shelf-cami and, quite frankly, I looked like a homeless person. Not exactly how I planned to greet the man who would father my children one day (and in the meantime, work my body the way it deserved).
I changed into a pair of my favorite jeans, which were comfortable and did amazing things for my butt. I chose a cream sweater that often slid off one shoulder and, since I was too busty to forgo a bra, I grabbed one of my nude colored La Perla’s. I also texted my brother to let him know, in case Jake really was here for Dylan. After fluffing out my hair again, I took a deep breath and walked back out to the living room.
The air seemed a bit tense as Dylan and Jake stood on opposite sides of the kitchen island, a paper bag between them. Despite Dylan’s rigid posture, Jake seemed relaxed, all sexy and delicious in dark blue jeans, a tight black T-shirt, and black motorcycle boots, leaning against the bar and looking very much like he belonged in my house.
“Hey,” I said. “I didn’t hear the doorbell.”
Dylan snorted, but didn’t expose my lie as she gestured toward the bag. “Jake brought lunch. Wasn’t that… nice?” The nervous pitch of her voice told me nice wasn’t necessarily the word she wanted to use.
“Sorry to show up unannounced,” he said, facing me with a smile. I swallowed convulsively. “But I think we got off on the wrong foot, and I wanted to bring a peace offering.”
“A peace offering?” Well that was nice.
“Yeah.” He opened the bag and set wrapped sandwiches before him and Dylan before sliding me a salad. “It’s a grilled chicken and strawberry with balsamic.”
“From Whole Foods?” I asked, intrigued.
He nodded, handing me a fork and a napkin. “Your brother told me it was your favorite.”
That was also really sweet. “It is. Thank you.”
Dylan read the sticker on her sandwich and blushed. “Apparently Asher told you my favorite too. Thanks.” She pulled her phone out of her pocket and started pushing buttons, no doubt thanking Asher as well.
I grabbed plates and napkins from the cabinet and carried them to the table. Dylan set her sandwich on a plate and sat, still staring at her phone.
“Have a seat, Detective Parker.”
“Jake, please,” he said, and joined us at the table.
I popped open my salad container. “So why did you bring us peace offerings again?”
“I wanted to apologize and explain something.” Jake frowned. “Because of my job, I see some messed up shit sometimes. I can’t always afford to give people the benefit of the doubt. But at the same time, I never want to alienate a suspect, or their family and friends, and make them feel like they can’t bring evidence to me.”
Now I got it. “This is about the recording.”
“Yes. I need you to know I am on the side of the law. Always. And if you have evidence that can help in Ms. James’s case, I need to know about it.”
Thinking over how I should respond, I took a bite of my salad and chewed while I filtered my thoughts. “You’re right, I probably should have given you the recording. In my defense, I was planning to give it to you, but then you accused me of hiding evidence that would incriminate Dylan, and it kind of pissed me off.”
I glanced at Dylan, who took a bite of her sandwich and gave me her “Right on, Addie, you go girl” look... or at least that’s what I imagined her thinking since she was too busy eating (in between glancing at her screen) to comment. Apparently, solidarity flew out the window when cute boys brought us food.
“You still should have given it to me,” Jake insisted.
“Well, you jumping to conclusions didn’t exactly make me feel like I could trust you with something important to prove her innocence.”
He stiffened. “I’d never tamper with evidence to make someone appear guilty, if that’s what you’re implying.”
“You’re the king of jumping to conclusions, aren’t you?” I accused.
“Blowfish,” Dylan whispered, then smiled at something on her phone.
I rolled my eyes and softened my tone. “All I’m saying, Detective Parker, is I don’t know you, and you seemed way too ready to convict my friend.”
Jake bristled, but I watched him school his features before he said, “The police force doesn’t convict. We gather information.”
Dylan glanced up from her phone long enough to say, “Great peace offering. Thanks.” Then she grabbed her plate and headed to the kitchen before adding, “By the way, Detective Parker also came by to check on the detail, Addie.”
“Detail?” I asked. When her retreating back didn’t comment, I turned my question to Jake. “What detail?”
He frowned. “Your brother didn’t tell you?”
I shook my head. “Nope.”
“I have officers watching your apartment around the clock.”
“Um, why?”
He unwrapped his sandwich and studied it like it was the most complex meal in the world. “Because I heard the recording.”
Sensing there was more to his story, I waited for him to continue.
“And I was strongly encouraged to put a man on your apartment. The perps clearly didn’t find what they were after, and if they get word that Dylan’s staying with you there’s a chance they could come looking for it here.”
“So my dad made a call. Got it.”
He nodded. “Also the autopsy report came back. Kirk Miller’s cause of death wasn’t the knife wound.”
“Wait, what?” Dylan asked.
“It appears he suffered from a stroke before he was stabbed.”
“Wow.” Dylan blew out a breath. “Kirk was always so skittish, but a stroke? That’s just… wow.”
“And someone went through a lot of trouble to put your knife in him,” Jake said.
Dylan shuddered. “They must have broken into my apartment while I was sleeping.”
He nodded. “Which brings me to these.” He pulled out what looked like key fobs for cars, handing us each one. “If you get into any trouble, press this button, and it will ring both my cell phone and dispatch. You’ll have an open line. You won’t be able to hear anyone on the other end, but we’ll be able to hear you, so give as much information about what’s happening as you can. Also, we’ll be able to track you.”
“That sounds invasive,” I said, eyeing the device.
“No, it sounds protective. The department is a little too busy to be watching your every move. We’ll only track you if you activate it.”
“This is all so... I don’t know... cloak and dagger,” Dylan said, attaching the fob to her keyring. “When do we get the watches that shoot laser beams?”
I nodded, grabbing my keys and attaching mine. “Seriously.”
“That equipment is above my pay grade. I’m hopin’ you won’t even need to use these,” Jake said.
“Oh, I wanted to ask if you found Dylan’s computer?” I asked.
“My computer’s not missing,” Dylan said.
“What?” Jake and I asked at the same time.
“One of my gamer friends has it because it’s acting weird. He’s fixing it for me.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? I was searching your apartment for it.”
She shrugged. “You didn’t ask. And you shouldn’t have been in my apartment alone. I’m still upset with you about that.”
“Me too,” Jake said. “So, Addison, you sent us on a wild goose chase to find a non-missing computer?”
He sounded mad, which pissed me off. “How was I supposed to know that it wasn’t missing? She’s a nerd... she lives and dies by her stupid wars of warcraft warring game!”
“World of Warcraft was years ago, Addie. I’ve played like twenty games since that one. I don’t know why you can’t get past it.”
“I couldn’t care less what you do in your virtual word, Dylan. You know that. My only stipulation is that if you start LARPing, you and I are finished.”
“Which is why I keep my costumes in a locker at the bus station.”
“Ohmigod, you’re ridiculous,” I said in (only slight) exasperation.
“Back to the recording.” Jake pulled his notepad and a pen from a pocket. “Dylan, did you recognize the men on it? Their voices? Anything?”
“No. Like I told Ash, they didn’t sound familiar. And by the way, it creeps me out to no end that strange men were in my apartment. Especially while my best friend was there.” She shot me a dirty look. I ignored her and took another bite of my salad.
“They were looking for something. Could it have been your laptop?” Jake asked. “Is there something on it that could lead to the murderer?”
“Not likely. I use it mostly for gaming.” Dylan walked to the fridge and got out three waters, offering one to each of us before taking a swig of hers. “Although… that stupid spreadsheet.”
“The one you were fired over?” I asked.
“Yeah. Kirk had been keeping me super busy with menial crap like making coffee runs and getting him lunch, and I didn’t have enough time to get all his expenses added, so I took it home and worked on it. There was a copy on the laptop.”
“Was?” Jake asked.
“Yeah. I deleted it when I was done.”
“Would anyone else have known about the laptop?” he asked.
Dylan shrugged. “Probably. Lots of people took their laptops into work. It wasn’t forbidden or anything.”
“So this spreadsheet is the only thing you had from work—or connected with Mr. Miller—that you have in your possession?” Jake asked.
“That I can think of, yeah.” Dylan nodded.
I could see where Jake was going with his line of questioning so I jumped in. “Did anyone see you with your laptop the day you were fired?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Dylan said. “Kirk and the security guard… the Russian one. The security guard stood by the door and Kirk helped me pack up my stuff. Kirk was breathing down my neck like I was gonna steal the company stapler or something. Oh Kirk’s assistant, Michelle was also there. She said good-bye to me on the way out.”
Jake scribbled down a couple of notes. “And where did you say the laptop is now?”
“At a friend’s house. He wiped the hard drive and is adding more memory to it.”
“Does your friend have a name?” Jake asked.
“He sure does.”
“What is it?” he pressed.
“Why do you want to know? So you and ten of your closest friends can show up on his doorstep and scare the crap out of him? Sorry, but I’m not that kind of friend. I’ll call him and find out when I can pick it up, and then you can look it over. I’m telling you, he wiped the hard drive, though.”
“Why would you have him wipe the hard drive if you had nothing to hide?” Jake asked.
Dylan cracked a smile. “As Addison mentioned, I’m a gamer. I’ve had that particular laptop for almost four years now and have probably played close to thirty games on it. You can run sweeps and defrags and maintenance, but over time programs build up this residual gunk that slows down your computer. You wipe it to get rid of that so your programs run faster.”
Jake’s eyebrows rose in question.
“You’d understand if you ever tried healing for a raid while you’re lagging out,” she explained.
He looked to me and I shrugged. “I tried to tell you she was a geek.”
“Yeah, so I wiped it. But I took it to my friend right after I got fired... killing time while I waited for Addie to wake up.” Dylan’s expression turned thoughtful, but before I could ask her what she was thinking, she rose to her feet and headed toward her bedroom, leaving me alone with Detective McSexypants.
“Dylan—” Jake started.
“It’s the best you’re gonna get,” I assured him. “At least without some sort of search warrant. And she’ll never give up her friend’s name. Trust me. Might as well enjoy our lunch and wait for Dylan. My brother knows you’re here, by the way.”
“I know. I told him.”
“Well, I also texted him,” I said.
“Yeah?” He grinned at me. “Good girl.”
“Contrary to what you might believe, I’m not an idiot.”
He reached for my hand, covering it with his and earning attention from every inch of my body. “I have never once thought you were an idiot, Addison.”
“No?”
“No. I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel that way. My desire to solve this case has taken over my ability to be charming, apparently.”
I bit back a smile. Well, he was wrong on that account, because that was certainly charming. He removed his hand from mine and finally took a bite of his sandwich.
“Thanks for lunch, Jake,” I said, still wrapped up in the way he looked in my house. “This is nice. Feel free to bring me a peace offering anytime.”
He chuckled, shaking his head as we ate in companionable silence. I took a sip of water just as my phone rang from the kitchen counter where it was charging. “Excuse me,” I said, and rounded the island to grab it. “Addison Allen.”
“Hey Addison, it’s Brittany Cabot.”
Brittany was heir to her father’s chemical company and worth close to two billion dollars. She had just gotten herself an equally moneyed and rather boring fiancé. Don’t get me wrong, Jonathan was a lovely man... he was just so dull. No personality, no humor... no over-sexed hair. Dull.
“Hi Brittany. Long time, no hear.”
“God, I know. This wedding might kill me.”
I smiled. “You’ve got this.”
“I’d have it better if you’d plan it.”
“Oh, honey, I don’t have the time. The fundraiser for the Allen Performing Arts Center is taking all of it.”
Mother’s newest venture was the restoration of a historic building on Broadway that she was turning into a Performing Arts Center for the less fortunate. She felt everyone should have access to opera. Personally I felt everyone should be spared opera, but the building was beautiful and should be on the National Historical Register, so I agreed to help make it happen.
Brittany sighed dramatically. “That was the other reason for my call.”
“Well, then I’m your girl.”
“We’d like to buy a table.”
I hummed in disappointment. “They’re all booked, I’m afraid. I do have about twelve plates available to purchase, but they’re not all at the same table.”
“What if we doubled the donation of each plate? Would you be able to move a few folks around so we could sit together?”
“Let me look,” I said, pulling the seating plan out of the basket on the counter. “I’ll tell you what, Britt. You triple it, and I’ll make you that deal.”
“You drive a hard bargain, Addison, but we’ll take it,” she said. “And by the way, we were willing to go up to fifty thousand.”
I laughed. “I’m sure you were, but we Allens aren’t greedy, so thirty thousand is adequate.”
“Damn girl, you’re funny.”
“I do try.” I smiled. “Is there anything you have in a closet somewhere you want to donate?”
“I actually have a Hermès Vintage Crocodile Kelly 35 handbag.”
“Shut up! 1960?”
“Yes.”
“Why the hell would you give that up?”
She chuckled. “Because I need a tax write-off more than I need that purse.”
“So you won’t be mad if I win it?”
“Not at all,” she said. “Go for it.”
“You’re amazing. I can have someone pick it up this week, but I’ll have you mail the check, if that’s okay.”
“Oh, yes, that’s fine.”
“Do you need the address of where to send it?”
“No, I have it.”
“Perfect. I’ll write you in.”
“Thanks Addison, we’ll see you there.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” I hung up and joined Jake back in the dining room. “Sorry about that. I’m planning a fundraiser and we’re two weeks out, so it’s getting particularly busy.”
“No problem.” He smiled and rose to his feet. “Speaking of busy, I should get back to work.”
“Oh, right.” I tried really hard for that not to sound so desperately sad and failed. I liked him in my space and kind of wanted him to stay there.
“If you think of anything that might help, call me, okay?”
I nodded and walked him to the front door. “Thanks again for lunch. That was really thoughtful.”
“My pleasure, Addison.”
He smiled and walked out my door, and I’m not gonna lie, I closed the door but stared through the peephole at his perfect butt as he walked down the hall to the elevators. Man, it was a nice ass. Firm, squeezable... mmm... yum.