Death of a Chorus Girl (The Delacroix Series Book 1) (15 page)

Thus, the conundrum that is myself.  I can care less about his charm, looks, or money.  The man has been trying to get into my bed for years.  I manage him with thinly veiled apathy in order to maintain our “working” relationship.

“There’s my girl!  I’ve been looking for you, sweet Em.”  Fitz yanks me off Richard’s arm and out of Richard’s reach as his arms snake around my waist.  Tom and I eye Richard, but he makes no move to interfere.  The cold expression in his eyes tells me that he is less than pleased with the events so far.  Which means this entire experience will be miserable for him.

Fitz traps me in his unwanted embrace and crushes his lips against mine. 
Fabulous!  A sloppy kiss from a drunk cad! 
My mouth remains forcibly closed.  In this business a chaste kiss, even if sloppy, is commonplace, but when his hand rests on my rear both Tom and Richard clear their throats in unison.  “I didn’t realize we had an audience,” Fitz says with false surprise.

Sabene hands me a cocktail napkin accompanied by a knowing look.  I dab my mouth and take a step towards Richard.  Fitz’s arm blocks my way.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he chastises.  “That man has been monopolizing your time all night.  Luckily, I stumbled across the always enchanting Sabene and her enticing friend,
Theodora
.”  Teddy giggles in response to the way Fitz seductively rolls the ‘R’ in her name.  Sabene and I share a glance.  You don’t share the truth about the wife with a woman until she’s far away from him and therefore can’t throw a drink in his face.  “But I have been longing to see you,
Empathy
, and offer my sincere congratulations on the accomplishment of this show.  Tom and I spent most of last week discussing the Tony’s marketing campaign for the show.  I missed you at the meetings, sweet.”

I keep my eyes glued on Richard’s as I lie to Fitz.  “I was under the weather last week, a nasty flu bug, but I’m feeling better now.  Fitz, we are being rude to my guest.  Richard, this is Charles Fitzwallace.  We all call him Fitz.  He’s been immensely supportive of the work Tom and I do.”  I slide behind Teddy and Sabene to return to Richard’s side.  It leaves Teddy open for Fitz’s groping, but she currently doesn’t seem to mind.  My arm threads through Richard’s as I gaze lovingly into his eyes.  “Fitz, this is my
boyfriend,
Detective Richard Giordano.”

It is amazing that the force from their collective jaws slamming into the floor doesn’t leave a hole in it.  You would have thought I had just stripped naked and started swinging from the chandelier.  Tom and Fitz are appalled.  Sabene and Teddy are shocked.  I can’t even begin to define Richard’s reaction.  Every emotion a person can feel roils across his face.

Previously, Fitz blatantly ignored Richard.  Now, he gives Richard an appraising once over, examining him as a rancher does livestock.  “Is that so, sweet?”  He is not at all thrilled with my announcement and levels a calculated stare at the man standing next to me. “How did you two meet?”

Sabene speaks up with our next lie.  “Through Teddy and I.  We introduced them.”  Neither Tom nor Richard argues that fact in front of Fitz, thankfully.

The seconds tick by, and I notice Teddy inching closer to Fitz. I again demand Richard’s attention.  “Tom and I need to discuss some business with Fitz.  I think Teddy could use some food before the night progresses too much further.  Would you be a dear and escort her and Sabene to the buffet tables?”

His eyes slide to Teddy and he nods his head.  I reach up on my toes intending to kiss him chastely.  Richard, apparently, has other ideas.

His free hand captures my neck and his tongue parts my lips.  It isn’t an overwhelmingly inappropriate kiss for public consumption, but it certainly confirms for the others the lie that we are lovers.  Breathless by the time he is done, I open my eyes to find a sly smile greeting me.  Richard nudges my nose before whispering in my ear. “Don’t worry, I’ve worked undercover.  I noticed what you are doing.  I know what this is and what it’s not.”  Then he kisses my temple, shares a curt nod with Tom, and collects our friends. 
God, but he’s a good man
.

I turn back to face the remaining men, neither of whom appreciated the sight of what they witnessed, and inch closer to Tom.  It is up to him to get me out of here.  Fitz’s typical jovial visage is now dark and ominous.  Surely, he can’t be mad about me choosing not to be his mistress.

“Had I known there was going to be a
show
with more twists and turns than those offered on the Broadway stage, I would have
paid
more.”  Fitz speaks pointedly to Tom, who offers me his arm as makeshift protection. 
What show are they talking about?

His statement isn’t some poor joke.  An insinuation lies underneath his words.  I don’t comprehend it, but I can tell by Tom’s response that he does.  “You know damn well that
show
is not open to the public.”  Though Tom despises Fitz, much as I do, he is never anything less than affable and accommodating.  Whatever this is about, it is worth more to Tom than Fitz’s money.

“Funny because it absolutely appears to be allowing any riff-raff through the doors,” Fitz fumes.

Their coded disagreement perturbs me so I remind them both of why we are together in the first place.  “Gentlemen, enough.  Whatever you two are fighting over doesn’t need to be done in my presence.  Fitz, Tom says you wanted to hear from me directly about my involvement in
Covered
.”  I’ve been consulting with Tom on this off-Broadway show about mistaken identity and conspiracies.  The description makes me realize how similar to my life it sounds.

Like flipping a switch, Fitz becomes the jovial, irreverent cad I’ve always known.  I find the speed with which that happens disturbing.  “Of course, Em.  Are you collaborating with Tom to bring
Covered
to Broadway?  My impression is they have a different choreographer.”

“They have a choreographer currently.  I’m more of a consultant on this endeavor but so far they’ve been very open to my suggestions.”

Fitz puts his hand out and locks eyes with Tom.  “Then I have a business proposition for you, sweet.  Would you permit me to speak with you privately?”  Tom immediately stiffens and he places a protective hand over mine.  “I’m not going to spirit her away,
Thomas
, especially now that she has a
detective
for a boyfriend.”

I get the impression that this will devolve into something hostile if I refuse to speak privately with Fitz.  I warily withdraw from Tom’s protection and join the snake holding the purse strings, but I don’t take his hand.  I peek over my shoulder and dismiss Tom.  “Alright, what’s your proposition?” I ask Fitz when Tom is gone.

Fitz takes a step towards me and I take an equidistant one back.  “Come now, there’s nothing to be afraid of with me.”  I remain still and quiet.  After a few moments, he gets the message.  “Would you consider being Tom’s co-producer for
Covered
?”

That is unexpected.  I’ve never produced a play in my life.  “I have no experience with all that entails.  Besides, Tom has never needed a co-producer before.  He’s always done well on his own.”

Again, Fitz advances on me and I retreat.  “Em, you don’t give yourself enough credit.  You and Tom make an excellent partnership.  He’s the money guy, but he uses you as the creative force.  You’ve only ever gotten billing as the choreographer, but it’s your vision the money he collects typically brings to life.  At least, that’s the observation I’ve made the last few years.  Which is why I’m suggesting the co-producer title.  Everyone pops their cherry on something, sweet. I think
Covered
should be when
we
pop yours.”

His innuendo-laced analogy causes me to shudder. I’m not quick enough to stop his fingers from tracing along the neckline of my dress.  Another obstacle in my escape develops when the colored scenery shifts to gray.  The last cognizant thought that is my own before an ill-timed living memory sweeps me away is that Fitz is the absolute last man I need to take a break from reality with.

Richard Giordano: The Ballroom at the Four Seasons

I didn’t need Em to introduce Charles Fitzwallace.  I am more than familiar with who he is.  His name is synonymous with the big time shills who expect big time favors in return.  Bobby deals with him more than I do, as the DA’s office gets the calls when the police department finds Fitzwallace linked to criminal activities.  We also suspect individuals in the department of doing double duty on his payroll because evidence always disappears when he is involved.  He is one of the few things Bobby and I see eye to eye on.  The guy is a tool.

Steve and I had also learned yesterday that he is one of Annie’s potential lovers, along with two other men, whose pictures we repeatedly found with her.  Seeing him at an event like this is expected; watching him kiss and grope my girl is not.  Add on that the tool is married and hitting on Frisco, well, had Em not asked me to trust her beforehand, I probably would have punched the guy and ruined my own career.  But it would have been worth it.  Still might be.

“I’m assuming from your initial response that Em and you hadn’t come to the consensus you’re her boyfriend prior to the announcement,” Sabene says.  I keep a close eye on Em and shake my head.  No one has said a word since scurrying Frisco away from Fitzwallace.  The stories of her getting wasted in her younger days are infamous, but I never witnessed it.  “Don’t hold it against her, Rich.  She was trying-”

“I’m well aware of what Em was doing.”  It comes out colder than I mean.  The frustration of knowing Em is alone with two men, who I am well aware want nothing more than to screw her, seeps through.  “How much did she have to drink?” I ask as I incline my head towards Frisco.

We are sitting at a corner table where I can keep Em in my sightline.  “Just one.”  Sabene’s answer draws my focus in her direction.  “Weirdest thing.  You and I both know Teddy can hold her liquor but by the time she finished the drink, she was much more receptive to Fitz’s cheap talk.  I’m concerned she may have been drugged.  Have you heard of something called Nine?”

I shake my head as I glance back towards Em.  I can see her and Fitzwallace, but Worthy isn’t there.  “Apparently, it’s the new date rape drug.  We’ve seen a lot of emergencies due to over-”

That is as far as Sabene gets in her description.  A hand clasps my shoulder. “Go get our girl, detective.”

I whip around to face Worthy then stumble out of my seat as I search for Em.  “You left her with him!  Are you out of your damn mind?! 
I
know he is more dangerous to her than
you!
”  I am not yelling, but my fury is evident all the same.

“I had no choice.  He asked to speak to her privately and she accepted. 
I’m
not the boyfriend, but
you
apparently are.  My jealousy would look juvenile.  Yours is justified. 
So go get her
.”  Worthy’s anger about the whole situation drips from his overemphasized last sentence, but there is a hint of pain about him when he admits he is not Em’s choice.

I get caught up in my emotions, the frustration with Frisco, the distrust of Fitzwallace, and now the anger at Worthy, and dig in my heels to argue with him.  Sabene grabs my arm before anything spews from my mouth.  “Rich, go get her.  Go get her now!”  The fear in her voice baffles me until I follow her gaze and it engulfs me as well.  She has to know about the visions because right at this exact moment Em is having one in the company of that tool.

Empathy Delacroix: Bad Timing

Panic wells up inside me.  I have always been leery of him but never thought he would stoop this low.  My back hits a corner sending my eyes darting around the space, searching desperately for an escape.  The nondescript figure fills my vision and his silent words launch my heart into my throat.  The faceless man descends on me, hands ensnaring my wrists.  Now is when I decide to fight back.  Why did it take me so long to decide to do so?

A twist of my arms gets one free but he pins me to the wall and shouts something over his shoulder.  His lips find my neck and kiss a nauseating trail to my ear.  He whispers something and I respond by slapping his face.  He retaliates by pulling me from the wall and throwing me back against it, laughing the whole time like this is a sport.

This is going to end horribly if I don’t do something. I fight the darkness threatening to steal away my consciousness.  My strength dwindles.  In truth, I never stood a chance.  He is bigger and broader than I am.  Thinking I have succumbed to my fate, he looks over his shoulder.  This is my only opportunity at freedom, so I kick him in the groin as hard as I can and duck under his arms.

Unfortunately, he recovers quickly.  I only make it out of the room when his hand snaps around my wrist and swings me into a mirror.  The ringing in my head almost overshadows the pinch in my arm.  His arms hold me up when my legs give out, right before I surrender to the darkness.

Richard Giordano: The Lobby at the Four Seasons

“Excuse me.  Pardon me.”  I race to get to Em.  Luckily, she hasn’t collapsed.  Yet.  She has her palms pressed into her eyes.  It is only because I know what to look for that I see the slight tremble in her body. 
Hold on, Em, I’m almost there!
  A few steps away and I can hear Fitzwallace asking her a question in a tone that makes it clear that he is repeating it.