Warning Signs (Alexis Parker Book 19) Page 5

  “According to Cross, he barely even took the meeting.”

  “That’s the same story I heard, but…”

  “What is it, Parker?”

  “I don’t know. It may be nothing.”

  “Tell me anyway.”

  “Cross knew I didn’t find anything in our database on Landau. He even said he offered to give you his records, but you declined.”

  “Well, he said he’d be happy to help as soon as I came back with a court order,” O’Connell corrected. “I will if I have to, but I’m guessing it’ll be a dead end.”

  “Regardless, I didn’t like the way he said it.”

  “You think he’s covering something up?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t believe Cross was involved in Landau’s murder. It’d be easy enough for me to check to see if he has an alibi once you get the TOD window narrowed. But Lucien’s not a killer, not like this anyway. He definitely wouldn’t waste his time with poison. I just wonder if he might remember more about his meeting with Victor Landau than what he shared.”

  “How are you going to find out?”

  “Me?”

  “I thought you were helping out on this,” O’Connell said. “Don’t you owe me for something?”

  “I’ll always owe you. I’ll see if any of the receptionists or assistants remember making notes regarding Landau’s reason for the appointment. I’ll let you know what I find, but in the meantime, Cross reminded me his case takes priority. He wants me to keep busy, so I can’t assist you.”

  “He doesn’t want you helping the police department on this murder spree. Big surprise.”

  “Spree? Oh right, this is the fourth. That makes it serial.”

  “No shit.” He let out a sigh. “I already contacted the Bureau when we found the last one. They don’t know anything.”

  I rubbed my eyes. The last thing I needed was to piss off another deranged killer. “I’ll search Cross’s database for clues, but I’ll need everything you have on the other three victims, the locations where they were found, the evidence lists from the crime scenes, and the names of any witnesses or suspects you questioned. I’ll let you know if anything pops. But I doubt it. You’re probably on your own.”

  “All right, I’ll get everything together and drop it by in the morning.”

  “Actually, I’ll pick it up. I have to sign some paperwork, don’t I?”

  “You do. I just wasn’t sure if you were still on board. You didn’t seem particularly enthused this morning.”

  “I’m not, but turning a blind eye while some psycho murders people isn’t going to help me sleep any easier. I don’t want anyone else to die because of me.”

  “That’s a good goal to have.”

  I snorted. “Isn’t it?”

  “On the bright side, you get to put the screws to Cross by helping me out with this.”

  “True, but I don’t necessarily want him to know I’m multitasking until I’m certain he’s not hiding something.”

  “All right. Get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning. And Parker, it won’t happen again. Lightning doesn’t strike twice.”

  “Are you sure?”

  We disconnected, and I dropped onto the couch and put my face in my hands. Now I had even more to worry about. Why me?

  The overwhelming urge to hide under the bed and never surface again beckoned. But that would involve going upstairs, and despite what I’d said to everyone who asked, my leg hurt. Stairs might have been my greatest foe. Instead, I took the throw off the couch and put it over my head. The world would never find me under here.

  “Hey, Parker.” Bruiser put his jacket on and reached for the holster he’d left on the coffee table. He nudged the blanket, having deduced the Alex Parker shaped lump beneath it had to be me. “Are you sure you don’t need someone to drive you around tomorrow?”

  “No, I’m okay.”

  He laughed. “That’s not what I would call hiding under a blanket.”

  I pulled it off my head. “I’m not hiding. I’m keeping warm.”

  “Anyway, I’m taking off. If something changes, let me know.”

  “You can stick around.”

  “Nah, the boss man’s home. I’ll get out of the way.”

  “What time is it?”

  “A quarter to eight.”

  “You might want to stick around. He might need a bodyguard.”

  Bruiser held up his palms. “I’m not stepping into the middle of this, or you might take your revenge out on me when we spar.” He tapped his temple. “I haven’t forgotten.” He patted my shoulder. “Try to go easy, slugger. He loves you.”

  Bruiser went down the steps. I could hear the two of them conversing, but I couldn’t make out their words. A few moments later, Martin emerged. He’d already undone his tie and the top few buttons of his shirt.

  “Hey, beautiful, how was your day? I heard you went to work.”

  “Was that your doing?”

  His brow furrowed. “Why would you think that?”

  “Call it gut instinct.”

  Martin pulled a bouquet of purple and white flowers from behind his back. “It wasn’t me, but I brought you something.”

  “Is that supposed to be an apology?”

  “No.” He grabbed a crystal vase from the shelf and put the flowers inside. “Why would I apologize?”

  “I can think of a few reasons.”

  He put the arrangement down on the coffee table and adjusted the irises and white roses. “They’re silk. I didn’t want to trigger your allergies too.” He turned back and looked at me. “I thought they might cheer you up.”

  “I spoke to O’Connell. What did you say to him?”

  Martin ignored me. “So you don’t like the flowers?” He picked up the vase and moved it to the end table. “In that case, I hope you like your other surprise better.”

  “I don’t want gifts. I just want to know what you did. You’ve been orchestrating my entire life lately.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “What you said to Jen and Nick about me, telling Bruiser how to feed me so I’d actually eat, and who knows what kinds of favors you asked Lucien for. How many times are we going to have this fight? It’s my life, my career, my business.”

  He tugged on his collar, opening another button. “Yes, I spoke to Nick’s wife. She’s a nurse, and the O’Connells are our friends. She wanted to know how you were doing. So I told her. Big deal. As for Bruiser, I warned you this morning I’d have him force-feed you. So don’t even start. Aside from the crackers last night, when’s the last time you ate?”

  “And Cross?”

  “Oh for fuck’s sake. You really think I’d go to him for something?”

  “You already have.”

  Anger burned in his eyes. “Mark doesn’t count.”

  “Not Mark, the necklace with the GPS tracker you gave me. You got that from him.”

  “So? I told you about that.”

  “You only told me because I found out.”

  “Well, it saved someone’s life, didn’t it?”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “Actually, sweetheart, that’s precisely the point.”

  “Ugh.” I let out a growl, wishing I’d stayed underneath the blanket. “You’re the reason I got hired at Cross Security in the first place. For all I know, you’re the reason for everything.”

  “I can live with that.” A smirk tugged at his lips. “Blame me,” he said with such sincerity I nearly slapped the look off his face.

  “Don’t say that. If that’s what you want, we can’t be together.” I climbed off the couch, needing to be in motion and away from him. Unfortunately, he followed me into the second floor suite which I’d made into my office.

  He leaned against the doorjamb with his arms folded across his chest, watching as I reorganized the papers I’d taken home from work. “You’re hurt and sad. I get that. But in case you’ve forgotten, I told you to stay home today.”

&nb
sp; I glared at him. “Once again, you were right. Does that make you happy?”

  “No, it doesn’t. You’re the love of my life, so anything that hurts you or makes you sad isn’t something from which I take joy.”

  “You have no problem pissing me off. I’m pretty sure you enjoy that.”

  “Only because I love you. And it’s fun.”

  “You’re insane.”

  He laughed. “Truly, madly, deeply.” He pulled himself away from the wall and nudged me. “I’m trying here, but you’re not making it easy on me. Cut a guy some slack. It’s bad enough I’ve already lost my mojo. Are you going to take my pride and my balls too?”

  “Martin, tell me the truth. Did you convince anyone at the police department to offer me a consulting gig or suggest to Lucien that I needed to be assigned a case?”

  “No. I won’t interfere in your career like that.” He held up three fingers. “I promise. Cross my heart.”

  “But you told Bruiser to make me soup.”

  “You like soup.”

  I pinched the skin along his ribs, making him wince.

  “Hey, I was transparent about my intentions and threats. I wouldn’t have to resort to such extremes if you weren’t always so difficult.”

  “I told you I’m not easy.”

  “Good thing I love a challenge. That must be why I love you.” He ran his thumb across my cheek, waiting for permission before he kissed me on the mouth. “All right, just give me a few minutes to change and then I’ll get dinner ready.”

  “Don’t we have leftovers?”

  “We do, but I promised Jabber I’d grill steaks. Since you were so desperate to talk to him last night, I thought I’d do you one better.”

  “You invited Mark Jablonsky for dinner?” The idea eased the pressure in my chest I hadn’t even realized was there.

  Martin smiled, pleased he’d finally done something right. “The steaks shouldn’t take that long. We could properly make-up before he arrives.”

  “No.”

  “Suit yourself,” Martin headed for the stairs, “but you’ll change your tune once I find someone to lift this curse.”

  Seven

  I straightened up the living room. The last thing I needed was Mark giving me more grief. He made it his life’s mission to irritate me ever since the first time I stepped foot in his office. So finding the cushions indented in the shape of my body and the throw still warm would only add more fuel to the fire.

  Once everything was organized and the evidence of my depression and heartbreak were safely hidden away, I made a pot of coffee. Napping earlier should have made me feel better. Instead, it emphasized how exhausted I was.

  Martin came down the stairs just as I poured the contents of the pot into a tumbler. He went to the pantry and returned with the sugar bowl and a handful of spices for the steak. Wordlessly, he put the sugar down beside me and continued to the fridge. “Cream or milk?”

  “Milk.”

  He handed it to me before pulling the steaks out of the fridge. “Do you need more ice, or do you want it warm?”

  “It’s iced coffee.”

  “I know, but I’ve seen you drink it warm on several occasions. Sometimes, I think you only add the ice in order to drink it faster.” He massaged the spices into the steaks and put them on a plate to rest.

  “Why do you always have to act like you know everything?” I stirred until the cubes dissolved and took a sip.

  “Because I do.”

  “For the record, smug is unattractive.”

  “Is that why you didn’t want to have make-up sex?”

  I ignored the question and took a seat at the kitchen table while Martin scrubbed a few potatoes. “How did your meeting with Cross go this morning?”

  “It went.”

  A disturbing thought entered my mind. The only times Cross specifically asked me to work cases was when they connected to Martin. “Do you know Andre North?”

  Martin finished poking holes in the potatoes and put them in the microwave. “I don’t think so.”

  “What about Eve Wyndham?”

  He went to the fridge in search of salad ingredients. “Do you want roasted Brussels sprouts or grilled asparagus?”

  “I don’t care.”

  He pulled out the asparagus spears and placed them beside the lettuce, tomato, cucumber, bell peppers, and onion already on the counter. “Marcal said he picked up some baby portobellos on his last trip to the market. Do you want them as a side dish or sauteed over the steaks?”

  “Martin, it doesn’t matter. You know I don’t have much of an appetite.”

  He met my eyes and decided it was best not to argue. “Which would Mark prefer?”

  “More steak, less veggies.”

  “You’re probably right.”

  “So, Eve Wyndham?” I repeated.

  “Name doesn’t ring any bells.”

  “You’re sure? She’s an event planner.”

  Martin washed the produce in the sink and made the salad, expertly chopping each ingredient with chef-like precision. “What does she look like?”

  “Hot. Gorgeous curls. Expert highlights. Decent boob job. Nice legs.”

  “Where does she work?”

  “She’s freelance now, but she used to work for Elite.”

  He absently ran a hand through his hair.

  “Ah ha.” I knew his nervous tics just as well as he knew mine. “You do know her.”

  “No. Well, maybe. I’m not sure. Martin Technologies uses Elite for most of its major events, and half the time, when I organize something for charity, I use them. They have high standards and contacts with some great PR firms and major media channels – online, television, newspapers, magazines. You get the point.”

  “So that’s why Cross assigned me this case. I knew it.” Letting out a sigh, I asked the inevitable. “Did you sleep with her?”

  He missed the vegetable and nicked his finger with the knife.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “My finger’s still attached if that’s what you mean.” He went to the sink, rinsed it under water, and wrapped it in a piece of paper towel. “However, I don’t appreciate you assuming I’ve slept with every hot woman in this city.”

  “It wasn’t an assumption. It was a question.”

  “Bullshit. You always think I’ve had torrid affairs with these women. When are you going to give me the benefit of the doubt?” He held up the bloody paper towel. “I could have lost a finger.”

  I tried not to laugh. Like the loving girlfriend, I grabbed the bandages and went to the counter. Given how often we went through first aid supplies, I could probably invest and retire on the dividends. He removed the paper towel, and I snorted at the tiny cut.

  “Men always think it’s bigger than it is.”

  He tore open the wrapper and wound the band-aid around his finger. “No, sweetheart, it’s been so long, you’ve forgotten just how big it is.”

  “Men always think it’s longer too.”

  He narrowed his eyes at me. “It’s nice to see you’re having fun at my expense.”

  Except I wasn’t. “Did you sleep with her? You never answered my question.”

  “Why do you always ask me that?”

  “Because you’ve slept with half the women in this city, and you’re the self-proclaimed god of sex and ecstasy or some nonsense like that. Doesn’t that mean every woman who crosses your path throws herself at you?”

  “You didn’t.”

  “We live together. Your point is moot. Plus, Cross handpicked me for this case. He only does that when it involves you.”

  “What?”

  “He’s obsessed with you. He probably wants me to keep your name out of the investigation. Maybe that’s why he wanted me to handle it.”

  “To protect me?” Martin asked.

  “Only if you’re currently having an affair with her.”

  “Alex–”

  I held up my hand. “I know you’re not. You w
ouldn’t do that to me. But Lucien has an agenda, and every case he’s personally asked me to investigate connects back to you. I don’t want to get blindsided again. I need to know how you connect to Andre or Eve.”

  He put away the bandages. “I didn’t sleep with her. If I had, I would remember her name, but it’s possible we’ve crossed paths. When did she leave Elite?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Tell me what you do know, and we’ll take it from there.” He kissed my forehead. “In the meantime, I better finish making dinner. If you have any more insane questions to ask, give me the heads up before I lose a finger or worse.” While Martin finished cooking, I brought my files into the kitchen. “Is that her?” He examined the photograph of Eve and Andre.

  “Yep.”

  He tilted his head from side to side. “I’ve never seen her before.”

  “Are you sure you’d remember?”

  “Not really, but I don’t think we crossed paths. And for the record, she’s not that hot. You have better legs.”

  “I used to.”

  “You still do,” he insisted.

  “She has a nicer rack.”

  “That could double as a flotation device.” He reached for his phone and made a note. “I’ll have someone from MT check and see who we’ve worked with from Elite. Someone must remember. I’ll give you the name once I get it.”

  “What about Andre?”

  He shook his head. “What would their pending nuptials or extra-marital affairs have to do with me?”

  “That’s why I asked if you slept with her.”

  He scoffed and rolled his eyes. Before he could say anything else, the security system alerted us to activity. “Jabber’s here. Would you mind letting him in while I throw the steaks and asparagus on the grill?”

  “No problem.”

  I opened the front door just as Mark reached for the doorbell. He’d lost a few pounds since the last time I’d seen him. His color had improved, and he looked healthy.

  “You look like shit,” he said. “When’s the last time you slept?”

  I looked at my watch. “About five hours ago. Thanks for the compliment. It’s just what a girl wants to hear. I was going to say you look good, but you can forget it now.”

  Mark gave me that concerned look of his as he entered the living room. “Have you been working?”