2
Kelly
The deadbolt on the door clicked over and I was met with wide, unblinking eyes.
“Hey.” Sylvia turned and went back inside.
I stepped through the threshold and did the honors of checking the house out before I got too comfortable. It was an open floor plan with white and yellow walls framing large bay windows, bringing the outside in. “Why did you want to meet way out here?” I asked.
Laguna Beach lay south of Los Angeles and was known for mild year-round temperatures, stunning beach coves, and a thriving artist community. It was the artist community that I suspected brought Sylvia Neil to the area—if only for a brief escape from the chaos of the city.
“Can I make you one?” she asked, busy behind the espresso machine to the right of the sink.
She had her long hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. It was the same casual appearance she had most of the time, the only difference now was that she was still wearing the shorts she’d slept in, covered by a long loose-fitting tee. “That would be great,” I said.
A minute later, Sylvia slid a fresh hot espresso across the marbled island counter and said, “Thanks for coming on such short notice.”
“It’s a nice place.” I nodded looking around. “Is it yours?”
“Like I could afford such luxury on a journalist’s salary.” She smirked.
I took a sip and licked the foam from my lip.
“It’s my publisher’s place.” She lifted her own mug to her lips, pausing to cast her gaze down. “After he learned about my week of threats, I was given a new assignment.”
My brows raised, curious to know what her new assignment entailed.
“A few days here for a little R-and-R.” She lifted her hand up loosely, palm up in a who cares gesture.
“You seem relaxed,” I commented as my eyes drifted over her lowered shoulders.
“It’s been a while since I’ve taken some time off.” She set her espresso mug down on the counter in front of her. “Besides, here it’s more laid back than the office and my stuffy apartment.”
I turned my attention outside. Ocean swells lazily came to shore in their normal ebb and flow. With the windows open, I breathed in the salty air, appreciating what a short drive to the beach could do for a man’s soul. Even with my short time here, I could already feel my own head clearing. I turned my attention back to Sylvia who was lost inside her own thoughts. “So, have the threats stopped?”
She held her breath and her posture stiffened before she nodded. “Just as I suspected they would.”
The investigation into Maria Greer’s death was an interesting case that was still evolving. Whoever was behind the threats had to be close, aware of whatever it was Sylvia was working to uncover. And it was those secrets that seemed to have someone very paranoid.
“I met with Wesley Reid.” I looked up at her from under my brow.
She let out the breath she was holding inside her chest and shifted her weight to her opposite leg. Suddenly her eyes woke up, eager to know what I had learned. “And did you find out anything?”
I cast my gaze back to my fingers lightly drumming on the counter. She had told me to go to Wes, knowing that he knew more about Nash Brooks’s involvement with Maria, suspecting that there may be more to her death than what the police had collected and put into evidence.
Sylvia stepped forward. “Was I right?” Her tone was sharp.
I hooked my finger through the mug handle, lifting it to my mouth before slowly nodding. “Wes knew about Nash and Maria’s time together.” There was a glimmer of hope flashing across Sylvia’s eyes when I met her gaze. “And his attraction to his own interns.”
Then her face twisted as her eyebrows drew together.
“What is it?” I asked, knowing something had gone off inside her head.
“Nash—” Her eyes darted across my face as she tried to keep up with her own thoughts. “He’s dating an intern now.”
I gave her a questioning look. “Alex Grace?”
“Yeah.” Her tone was soft. “She’s also an intern.”
“Not anymore.” My tongue darted out of my mouth, wetting my lips. “Promoted to Assistant Director.”
“But they’re still dating?”
“As far as I know. Why? Did you hear something that would cause concern for Alex’s safety?”
Sylvia let out a heavy sigh and rubbed her face. “No.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s just that his relationship with Alex began in the same manner as it did with Maria.” She turned, ran her hand over her hair, and cursed. “Kelly, don’t you see?”
My eyes narrowed.
She turned back around to face me. “If Nash begins to take her to Mint, then who knows what will happen next.”
I could see her concern but without first talking to Nash myself, I wasn’t going to make the leap to saying Nash was the one who murdered Maria. “How do you know Nash is a member of Mint?”
Her mouth slackened as she shook her head. “C’mon. Don’t you know me by now? It’s what I do. Report on celebrities and the lives they lead. Once word spread about Wes’s new nightclub, it was impossible for me—and others in the industry—to not want to know more about what went on once the doors were closed. If it wasn’t for the secrecy behind it all, I probably would have pursued another story. But,” her adoration for the story hit her eyes, “I couldn’t let it go. I needed to know who was visiting, what they were doing, and why the rest of the world wasn’t invited to the hottest new party in town.”
I didn’t know if she knew my own involvement with Mint or that I, too, partook in the lifestyle that remained exclusively underground and out of sight. And for what it was worth, it didn’t matter. This was about connecting the dots and seeing if Sylvia was as a reliable source as I hoped she was. “But my understanding was that Nash stopped coming.” I redirected our conversation back on point.
Her lips parted slightly. “That’s my understanding too.”
“But there is something that I’m unclear on.”
“Lay it on me.” She folded her arms across her chest. “Maybe I can help.”
“I’m just not sure if Nash stopped attending the club before or after Maria’s death.”
We locked eyes, looking into the depths of each other’s thoughts for the answers we sought, like two chess players strategizing the next move in hopes of achieving a checkmate. If Sylvia wanted to make me believe that Nash Brooks could be the killer—when I already suspected Mario Jimenez of being framed—then her answer to my question could forever change the direction of the investigation into the murder of Maria Greer and my defense of Mario Jimenez. “Do you know?” I asked.
“After,” she said firmly. “Definitely after.”
“That’s what I was afraid of,” I murmured, feeling a knot twist in my gut.
I fought to hide the regret I felt threatening to pull my face into a frown. Dropping my gaze away from her, I picked up my espresso from the counter and brought it to my lips. Deep inside I hoped that she was wrong, that her answer was only a slip in memory from the events that led us to where we were today. Because I distinctly remembered Wes telling me that Nash stopped visiting his club before Maria’s death.
Now I didn’t know who to believe.
After a few minutes of silence, Sylvia finally asked, “So, whatever happened with that girl you were chasing the other day? You know, the one I ran into when leaving your penthouse.”
Warmth spread up my chest at the mere thought of Kendra. I would be seeing her right after I was done here and with her contract signed and the Madam giving me permission to have her exclusively for a month, I had a lot to look forward to. “You said she looked familiar—”
Sylvia nodded. “She’s a friend of Alex Grace. Did you know that?”
I couldn’t help but notice the irony of the web of connections between the same people whose characters we now questioned. “It’s funny, isn’t it?”
Sylvia pursed her lips and tilted her head to the side.
“How we’re all connected.”
She swallowed and narrowed her eyes.
“There was something else Wes told me.”
“Sounds like you want to tell me what that is.”
“Only if you want to hear it.”
“Should I?”
“Might clear some things up for both of us.”
“Then by all means, do tell.” Her brows raised.
“I just wonder why you failed to mention it to me first.” I looked her in the eye, but she refused to look back. “Sylvia, why didn’t you mention that you also had a one-night stand with Nash?”
She stepped away and moved to the window.
I flattened my feet and stood, stuffing my hands in my pants pockets. “Do you know how this looks, keeping a secret like that?”
“I do,” she whispered. “But I wasn’t the one to murder Maria.” Sylvia spun around and let her words fly fast off her tongue.
My shoulders shrugged as I moved to the front door, ready to make my exit. With one hand on the knob, I glanced over my shoulder and said, “It makes me wonder if the death threats you received were even real.”
Her face ticked at the accusation. “I didn’t make that up! Kelly, you must believe me.”
“Look at it from my angle. How can I not speculate?” I opened the door. “Then again, if you did make it all up, it’s not a bad diversion to keep me from looking into your own relationship with the very same man you’re convinced killed Maria.”
Sylvia dropped her hands to her sides, balling them into tiny fists as her face fumed red. “I think you better leave.”
“Thanks for the coffee.” I smiled. “I’m sure we’ll be in touch.”