Eeny Meany Miny Die (Cat Sinclair Mysteries) (16 page)

"Breathe, Cat," he said, straightening.

I coughed and looked away to hide the flush creeping up my cheeks. My brain kicked into gear again, but that only led to guilt. Had I just cheated on Will? Was it even my fault?

"So, my phone," I said in an attempt to distract Scarface from seeing how much his kiss affected me. "How can I get it back?"

He took a moment to answer. His hesitation screwed with my nervous system and I had to look up at him. He was watching me with an intensity that I couldn't read. Either he was battling with the desire to kiss me again, or he wanted me out of there so he could get on with his work.

"You can report it at the desk," he said. "But there's not much they can do. Your phone will be long gone, Kitten. Sorry."

"Fuck," I muttered. "All my contacts were on there."

"You should have backed them up."

"Ya think?"

He just shrugged and headed for the door. "Next time, don't go visiting Warshenski alone. Having your phone stolen is not the worst thing that could happen to you there." He didn't wait for me to go ahead of him, but walked off, leaving me standing there in the interview room admiring his ass and wondering what the hell I'd said or done to piss him off.

***

I reported my stolen phone at the front desk then used the pay phone outside to inform my phone company to disconnect the number. Then I headed to Renford City Concert House.

A crowd had gathered outside. A crying, screaming, stomping, tantrum-throwing crowd of tots and their mothers. The mothers were the loudest, shouting at the stressed staff who tried to calm them down with lollipops. It seemed the Play Group concert had been canceled after all.

I left before my eardrums erupted and drove to the Carleton Hotel a short distance away. A few reporters were camped out the front, sipping coffee and checking their makeup in the side mirrors of the TV vans. I walked straight past them and took the elevator up to Jenny's room. I figured Angel was probably sharing with her since her own suite was still off-limits.

I was right. Jenny beckoned me in after peeking through the peephole. "Expecting someone else?" I asked.

"The bitch."

"Cindy?"

"That's the one."

Jen sailed into the living room where the others lounged around. Taylor sat reading a magazine at the dining table, his feet propped on a chair opposite. He looked up, smiled at me, and returned to his magazine. Angel and Corey sat together on a sofa, her bare feet in his lap. He massaged her toes and looked wistfully into her eyes. Angel, however, only had eyes for me.

She sprang up and embraced me in a tight hug. "Thank you, Cat. Thank you, thank you."

"Um, what for? I haven't done anything."

"You're going to clear my name."

"Uh, yeah. I hope so." Unless she was guilty.

She drew away, but kept on smiling. I'd expected her to look tired after her ordeal, but she seemed fine to me. Dressed all in white, she was as chipper as the first time I'd met her. You wouldn't think she had a murder charge hanging over her head.

"You canceled the concert," I said. "I thought it was going ahead."

Angel's smile slipped. She rejoined Corey on the sofa but did not put her feet back in his lap. Seeing them together like that, I was struck by the resemblance. The blonde hair, the small, pointed pixie features, the fake tan, the bright blue eyes. It almost seemed unnatural for them to be lovers, incestuous.

Eewww, where had that thought come from?

"That was Cindy's idea," Jen spat. She sat at the table with Taylor and I sat beside her.

Taylor put his magazine down. "She thought it looked bad for Play Group to be continuing on with the concerts considering our grief."

Jen snorted. "Like she's any sadder than we are. She hated Frank too."

Angel sighed. "She's right. Canceling the rest of the concerts was the wisest decision."

Jen stared at her. "But before, you said—"

"I've had time to think it through," Angel said gently. "It really would look bad if we kept smiling and dancing like we didn't have a care."

"But the show must go on! That's what you said."

"I was…annoyed then."

Jen
humphed
and folded her arms, doing a good impression of a petulant child who hadn't gotten her way.

Taylor reached across the table and placed his hand on her arm. "We don't have to like Cindy, but she does have a point, Jen. Image is everything, remember? A kids group needs to show compassion, otherwise we lose the trust of the parents."

"We lose the parents' trust, we lose the paying customers," Angel said.

A part of me didn't like hearing the mercenary angle to her reasoning. Shouldn't a kids group be doing it because they love the work, and love being around kids, not for the money? But the actress in me remembered the crappy jobs I'd been forced to take to put food in my mouth when the auditions dried up. Being an unemployed entertainer sucked big hairy ones.

"Tell me about Cindy," I said.

"She's a bitch," Jen spat.

"I got that. Anything else?"

"She started the group with Frank," Angel said. "It was her idea, her talents that got Play Group noticed. Frank was the business brains behind the group, but Cindy was the heart."

"In that case, you're its soul," Corey told her. He gave her another wistful smile that she returned only half-heartedly.

"Her work ethic was amazing," Angel went on.

"Too amazing," Taylor told me. "She nearly drove us into the ground with her schedule. We protested and went to Frank, and she hated us from then on. Their marriage broke down, and she disappeared off the scene."

"She never had anything to do with you after the divorce, even though she still owned half of Play Group?" I asked.

"I guess she lost interest."

After all the effort she'd put in? It seemed weird to me that she would just walk away. Although having a lingering financial interest in the group technically wasn't walking away, but I did wonder if she'd be willing to do anything to get the group back. Murder, for example.

"I can't believe she's now our boss," Jen muttered. "I mean…fuck. Are we going to go back to the old days when we had to work our assess off?"

"If so, I quit," Taylor said.

Angel moved to sit beside him, a frown on her brow. She put her arm around him and kissed his temple. "You can't quit. None of us can. This is our life. Play Group is everything to us. We can't give up on it, or give up on us. We'll stick together through this like we've done through everything that's been thrown at us. Okay?" When he didn't answer, she pressed her forehead to his. "Okay, Taylor?"

He nodded and hugged her. Both Corey and Jen smiled. Once again I felt like an outsider looking through the window, wishing I felt the love too.

"We can't let her win," Jen said, vehemently.

"We won't," Angel assured her.

I cleared my throat to get their attention. "Has she addressed you all since her arrival?"

"Just a few words to say Frank was gone now and she was one hundred percent in charge," Corey said. "Then she canceled the concerts."

"Bitch," Jen spat again.

"Does she have family here?" I asked. "Friends?"

Angel shook her head. "Her family is all on the west coast."

"She has family?" Taylor snorted. "You mean she wasn't spawned by the devil?"

We all laughed.

"She doesn't have friends at all," he told me. "Only that minion who licks her feet whenever she asks."

"He probably licks other parts of her too," Jen muttered.

Corey leaned forward, a sly grin playing on his lips. "Rumor has it he wears her shoes in the bedroom."

"Is that his fetish or hers?" I asked.

"Maybe both."

"So they're lovers?"

"Probably," Jen said. "Cindy's still a player in Hollywood and sleeping with her is the best way to get a part in one of her shows."

Too late, she seemed to realize what she'd implied—that they'd gotten their parts in Play Group by sleeping with Cindy too. Going by hers and Corey's red faces, I would say it was how
they'd
gotten their parts, but I couldn't be sure about Taylor and Angel. Their blank faces gave nothing away.

"What's his name?" I asked.

"Linc," Angel said. "He had a small part in a kids show she produced. He's worked as her assistant ever since they wrote his character out."

"I heard he couldn't land any more roles," Corey said.

Taylor smirked. "And I heard she makes sure he doesn't get any more so he's stuck being her assistant." The smirk became predatory. "I can see why. The boy is gorgeous."

"Any reason you want to know if she has a connection to Renford?" Angel asked me.

"She got here pretty quick from L.A. after Frank's death, considering he's her ex," I said. "Why would she come? Did she know all along that she was inheriting the group or did she find out when she got here? It might matter, especially if she was already in town."

Angel frowned down at the floor. "I can ask Linc if you like."

"What about Frank? Did he know anyone who lives here?"

"Now that you mention it, there was someone. Max something. He was a business associate of my husband's. He and Frank met the night before Frank died. I guess Cindy could have known him too. Frank did say they went way back."

There was a knock on the door. Before anyone could stand, a voice came from outside. "Open up, it's me!"

"The bitch," Jen told me with a roll of her eyes. She did not get up.

Angel was the only one who made any move to let Cindy in, but before she opened the door, she turned to me. "Cat, maybe you should hide in the bathroom while she's here. She won't like us talking to an outsider about all this."

"Sure." I hid in the bathroom, but left the door open slightly so I could watch through the crack.

Angel let Cindy in then had to quickly step aside or risk being barreled over as she stormed past. Linc followed in her wake. He carried her bag over his shoulder and had to trot to keep up with her short, rapid strides. Cindy stopped behind the sofa. She clicked her fingers at Linc and he raced to stand beside her. His gaze darted around the room nervously, and I freaked out when I thought he'd spotted me. But his gaze didn't linger. It settled on Angel.

"Let's cut to the chase," Cindy said. She had a throaty, pack-a-day smoker voice. "I'm canceling the remainder of the tour."

"What!" Angel exploded.

"You can't!" Jen cried.

Corey and Taylor both looked to Angel. She marched up to Cindy. They were a similar height, although Cindy's high heels made her taller. They were both slender, pretty and blonde, although Cindy was a good fifteen years older.

"Why do we need to cancel all the shows?" Angel demanded, hands on hips.

"Because it looks bad if we keep them going." When Angel began to protest, Cindy put up a finger, ordering her to calm down. "There's only a few here in Renford, and this is our last stop. Look, we've been through this. The group can't afford to look heartless. Or guilty," she added, arching a brow at Angel.

"I didn't kill him," Angel ground out.

"That's not the point and you know it. It's all about appearances." She cupped Angel's pointy chin. "Hasn't it always been, Angel dear?"

Angel slapped Cindy's hand away. "Don't pretend you had feelings for Frank. You hated him as much as anyone."

Cindy's smile had a sad twist to it. "Yes, but I didn't hate him until
after
he left me."

Angel returned to sit on the sofa near Corey. They didn't touch or do any of the things lovers usually did to comfort one another. I wondered if Cindy knew about the two of them.

"The staff told me there's going to be a party for you tonight, Angel," Cindy said.

"A freedom party," Jen chimed in. "To celebrate her release."

Cindy laughed hollowly. "Freedom? Don't count your chickens, Darling. She's only been temporarily released until they can gather more evidence."

I swear I could hear Angel's heavy swallow from my hiding place. The four group members exchanged worried glances.

"She didn't do it," Corey declared.

"None of us did," Taylor added.

Cindy flipped her hand. "Whatever. There's a dozen people who would want to see that asshole dead, including everyone in this room. I don't care who did it, I only care that the bastard's gone."

Angel shook her head in disbelief. "And you call us heartless for wanting to continue with the concerts."

"The thing is, I'm in charge now, Darlings. You do as I say."

"Only until I contest the will."

"Go right ahead. You won't win."

Angel said something else, but I couldn't hear what. Cindy spoke over the top of her. "About the party—"

"We're not canceling it!" Corey cried. "Angel deserves that party after what she's been through."

"Oh please, spare me. Anyway, I'm not canceling it, but I am going to turn it into a grieving party."

"A what?" Jen sounded disgusted.

"We're going to use it to publicly grieve for Frank. A way of celebrating his life, if you like. So wear black and look sad."

"But it's for Angel!"

"For fuck's sake. Stop kissing her ass and start thinking for yourself, you stupid girl."

Jen's mouth flopped open like a door on a broken hinge.

Angel stood again and stepped closer to Cindy. She may have been shorter, but at that moment, she looked like a fierce pit bull. "Do not speak to her like that. You'll get your way with the party, but only because I happen to
want
to mourn my husband's death. You might think I didn't like him, but he was still my husband. He deserves a bit of respect now he's gone."

Cindy's response was a snort of derision.

Linc's phone beeped. He checked it, then whispered something in Cindy's ear.

Without so much as a goodbye, she walked off. Linc followed at her heels. They let themselves out.

Once the door was shut, Angel flopped onto the couch.

"You all right, Honey?" Corey asked, sidling up to her. He put his arm around her shoulders and hugged her.

Jen sat on her other side and circled her arm around Angel's waist. She kissed her cheek. "Ignore the bitch."