Death of a Chorus Girl (The Delacroix Series Book 1) (17 page)

I resign myself to being dragged into his embrace and kissed.  It is shocking when Tom blocks Fitz’s advance.  After all, he criticized Richard for doing the same thing to him just last night.  “She’s got a detective boyfriend now, Fitz.  We both need to respect that.”

Holy crap!
  Fitz hasn’t tried anything more than he always does.  Tom, instead of idly standing by, stepped in and drew a line where we have never done so before,
and
he did it in Richard’s stead, though I know it is more for my sake.  My mind slows as it tries to process all that has changed in those thirty seconds.

Fitz is now silently fuming and yanks his arm out of Tom’s grasp.  An invisible undercurrent pulls at my feet.  It feels as if something hostile will sweep me away at any moment.  I want to retreat, but I have to press forward.  I have never been fond of Fitz, but I also have never been afraid of him, until now.  He gestures to our table. I take my seat but inch it as close to Tom as I can without, hopefully, being noticeable.

Tom senses Fitz’s ill temper because for some damn reason he keeps poking at it.  “How’s the wife?”

We never speak of the wife!  We all know she exists, though spotting her is like catching sight of a lynx.  It rarely happens.  I know I asked to end our business relationship with Fitz, but I am pretty sure now isn’t the time.

“I’m sure she’s fine, Thomas.”  An icy chill coats Fitz’s tone.  “Being up to her neck in a male harem of her own design should keep her interests for a little while,” he pauses to lick his lips and gaze at me, “leaving me free for mine.”  Oh, why does it feel like I am sitting in the eye of the storm?  Until last night, Fitz has always called Tom, Tom.  Now he’s using Thomas.  That can’t be good.  Though his face is relaxed, there is a deadly edge to his eyes and his words come out razor sharp.  Those eyes then turn to me and I feel as if I am waiting to be bitten by an asp.  “Empathy, have you given any more thought to my business
proposition
?”

Tom leans menacingly forward at the word and the two return to their grim, soundless war. 
I gave up my time with Richard for this?!
  “I’ve about had enough, you two.”  That brings the joint attention of the two buffoons I am lunching with to me.  “I’m assuming this meeting was called to discuss my role in
Covered
?”  They nod.  “Then stop messing around and let’s get down to business.  It seems as though none of us truly wish to be in the company of the others.”

I snap my napkin and drape it across my lap.  Tom, at least, has the common courtesy to blush.  Fitz just appears to sink deeper into the darkness currently possessing him.  But I no longer care; I have a boyfriend to get home to.

The waiter comes and takes our orders and no one speaks until he leaves.  “Fitz,” I begin, “I’m not convinced I should co-produce
Covered
.  I’m not interested in taking on that role.  Tom does an excellent job.  He doesn’t need me getting in the way, but I’ll remain involved, as a consultant, if that is what you require to invest.”

“That was your proposition?  You want her to produce?”  Tom sounds surprised.  I assumed Fitz at least mentioned it to him first.

“You think she can’t?” Fitz snaps with arrogance.  “Then you underestimate her. 
I think she has many hidden talents and desires that you’ve been too blind to cultivate
.”  God damn Fitz and his veiled implications.

Tom’s eyes grow wide.  “If she had ever shown any interest, I would never stand in her way,” he fires back.

“I’m right here, gentlemen.  Either speak plainly and to me when you are obviously discussing me or I’m leaving. 
I
have better things to do today.”  This time it is Fitz who relaxes and Tom who grows grim.

Swinging his face to me, Fitz slips on a more pleasant demeanor as if it is a costume.  “My apologies, sweet.”  I’m sure he thinks he is casually placing his hand on the table, but I know it is an invitation for me to take it and a challenge for Tom to take issue.  “So you’re committed to keeping your cherry?”  Tom’s eyebrows try to fly off the top of his head at the inappropriateness of Fitz’s phrasing.  “You know I will be gentle with you since it’s your first time.”

Tom opens his mouth to defend me but snaps it shut when I put a hand on his arm.  It’s time to show Fitz exactly how I do business.  “That mouth of yours may be amusing in the locker room at the boys club,
Charles
.  It may get everyone else to sign on the dotted line.  But it doesn’t encourage me to do business with you.  We’ve known each other for a long time so I expect you to remember I’m a person and not a place for you to plant your cock until you get bored.  If your business proposition is a serious one and not another attempt to get into my bed, then let’s discuss it,
professionally
.  If it isn’t, then I thank you for lunch.”

I stand to leave, because let’s be honest, it is absolutely not a serious offer.  Tom’s chair moves as if he plans to follow me.  “Will you two please sit down?” Fitz concedes with an audible sigh.  I halt in my exit but don’t make my way back to the table.  “Again, you deserve my apologies, sweet.”  I arch an eyebrow at the unwanted endearment and his hands fist but he mumbles my name.  “It is a serious offer.  You’re an exceptional talent and I think it’s time to expand your horizons.”  He appears sufficiently humbled.  Tom and I share a glance to which he shrugs his shoulders as if to say, “It’s up to you.”

Tom has always told me that there is never any harm in listening to any offer so I sit back down.  Together we outline what my duties will be
if
I decide to co-produce the show.  “I’ll have the contract drawn up and sent to your lawyer, then, Empathy,” Fitz says at the conclusion of our conversation and meal.

I can tell that Tom is still uncomfortable with the idea of me co-producing, and frankly so am I.  “Make sure to forward a copy to Tom’s attorney as well,” I stipulate.  Getting further into business with Fitz requires a second opinion.  “I won’t sign anything until I get the go-ahead from Tom.”

This mandate makes Tom smile and Fitz scowl.  “Agreed,” he answers in a tight voice.

We discuss the Tony campaign for
Signin’
while we wait for the check.  Ours is the first show of the season to generate buzz, and with nine months until the awards, maintaining momentum is our biggest challenge.  They carry the bulk of the conversation while I just listen.  After all, it might be a discussion I need to have for
Covered,
if we transition it successfully from off-Broadway to Broadway.  The producer is in charge of managing all the press, marketing, and awards campaigns. 
What am I considering getting myself into?

Richard Giordano: Em’s Apartment

I have just buttoned my pants, after having the in-house dry cleaners bring them up, when Em’s voice calls my name.  I run to the elevator to see her arms loaded with bags.  I take them from her and sweep her into my arms to meet my passionate kiss.  I missed her so much.  How ridiculous is that?  It was only a couple of hours.

Her arms wrap around my neck as she raises up on her toes and arches into me.  “I could absolutely get used to coming home to you every day,” she purrs against my lips when I free her mouth.  Then she kisses me again, making my libido shift into overdrive.

I find myself fulfilled for the moment and meet her forehead with mine to nudge at her nose.  “You know it won’t always be possible for you to come home to me, right Em?”

“Then let me rephrase so it’s clear what my meaning is,” she explains.  The fingers of one of her hands rake through my hair while those of the other lazily run along my neck.  I shiver in response.  “My perfect future includes having you as the first and last image I see every day.”  The idea sets my blood on fire and this time when I capture her lips, I’m not gentle.  This time my desire for her comes through in full force and she quickly melts in my arms and whimpers with longing.

I slow the kiss and regrettably release her.  Em bites her bottom lip and takes an unsteady step back before picking up two bags and handing them to me.  “These are clothes I picked out for you on the way home.  I hope you don’t mind, but I remembered your sizes from the fitting at Armani.  Feel free to keep it all here if you like.  Why don’t you go try them on and make sure they fit?  I’ll get started on dinner.”

I’m stunned that she thought to buy me clothes but decide to address her comment about dinner first.  “Already taken care of.”  Her eyes widen with surprise.  With a dramatic bow, I admit, “Yes, I come pre-domesticated.”

“Well, that certainly is a bonus,” she says with a laugh and picks up a few more bags.  “I’ll put the incidentals in the bathroom.”

I could get used to this too.
  “I love you, Em.”

Her mouth falls open and she goes white as a sheet.  “Em?”

“Come again?” her mousy voice responds.

“Come again, what?” I repeat in confusion.

The color slowly returns to her cheeks and she smiles wickedly.  “You don’t realize that you said it, do you?”

What kind of question… is… that?  Damn it!  I said it aloud.  She probably thinks I’ve lost my mind
.  I run a hand through my hair and clear my throat.  What is the best way to pull my foot out of my mouth on this one?  The cage of my delirious and elf-wallowing mind almost distracts me from her approach.  Her hands cupped around my face act as my lighthouse in a storm of malcontent.  “Just say it again,” she whispers.  “That is if you meant it.”

I speak the truth, feeling safe to wittingly do so.  “I love you, Em.  I know it’s early.  I know it’s too fast.  But I do and I have since I saw you on that stage.  It’s fine if you don’t love me in return.  Just please, don’t be scared off because I already do.”

Her lips graze across mine.  “I don’t know if I love you that way in return,” she cuts me off in a murmur with eyes that search so deeply into mine I feel her weighing my soul.  “I’m not going to lie and say I do. 
But
, I know I am on that path.  I know I fall deeper and harder every day.  I know I want my future conjoined to yours.  So while I’m not saying it now…”

This time I finish for her.  “You will soon?”  Her tender kiss tells me all I need to know.

Richard Giordano: 57
th
Precinct

“W
here are we at on that theater murder?” the captain asks as he approaches my desk.  His question shocks me at first and I look up to stare at him blankly, until I remember that I am technically still the lead on that case.  That damned case that grows colder by the second!

“Um, let me check with Steve,” I hedge.  “He’s been running down most of the leads.”

“I was afraid of that.  Rich, I need to talk to you in my office.” 
Shit
.  I follow him there, running through all my options because giving up Em isn’t one.  Desk duty?  Done.  Unpaid leave until the case is sufficiently handed over to another team?  Not my first choice, but I’ll do it.  I’ll even consider transferring to another department.

The captain shuts the door once I’m inside and sits down behind his desk.  He clasps his hands, lays his arms across the top, and leans into them.  “Rich, in a second Internal Affairs is going to come in here and grill you about your partner.  Seems they finally got a bead on who our department mole might be.”  It can’t be my partner.  It will make me the biggest idiot in the department.  “They don’t suspect you at all,” he continues.  “And before those wheels turn too far and convince you that you aren’t the great detective you are, nobody saw this coming.  Not even IA.  We all know Steve plays it loose when it comes to women, and he’s had issues in the past, but you made him a better cop.”

“Obviously not if he’s the mole.”

“Which we don’t know for sure, yet.  Someone just happened to see him with Fitzwallace this morning.”

Is that all?  Now I’m not worried.  “That could mean anything.  Fitzwallace is one of our leads for being Annie’s lover.  Steve was probably questioning him about the pictures we found in the papers of him with our victim.”

Why doesn’t the captain appear relieved?  “Did you know he was planning on talking to Fitzwallace?”  I shake my head but again that doesn’t have to mean he is the mole.  I didn’t tell him about my last “official” interview with Em.  “Neither did anyone else and when we asked him where he was this morning he lied about it.” 
Shit, that doesn’t help.

“What do you want me to do?  Do you want me to try talking to him?”

“No,” the captain says it so succinctly that I know better than to argue.  “IA is going to tell you to keep an ear to the ground about your partner.  Which you
will
agree to.  If he’s involved with Fitzwallace, we have bigger fish to fry.”  The captain tosses some copy of a gossip magazine on the desk and who do you think was on the cover?  “Which brings me to my next item.  I’m pretty sure I’m familiar with the players but just verify them for me.”  He points at the people in the picture while I confirm the images of Fitzwallace, Worthy, Frisco, Sabene, Em, and myself.  Oh, but that isn’t the best part.  “I’m assuming then you are now seeing the ex-prime suspect and still key witness on the chorus girl case?”  The picture is of Em kissing me.  I nod.  “How long?”

“That night was our first date.”  It isn’t a complete lie.  “But we’ve spent some time together over the last week.”

“Okay, that’s the answer I got from Frisco yesterday,” the captain confirms. 
Yesterday!
  Sure enough, when I look at the date on the paper, it isn’t today’s.  “The relationship started after we cleared Ms. Delacroix as a suspect?”

It would have been easy to lie to him.  I am confident Frisco either claimed to know nothing or creatively forgot major details.  But I built my reputation on the fact that I willingly take my lumps when I deserve them.  “Sort of.”

My revelation knocks the captain back into his seat. “And what exactly does that mean?”

I collect my thoughts while scrubbing at my face.  “The flirting started immediately but you already know that since you warned me of it.”  He nods.  “Um, she was the dancer in my lap at the Gala.”  He closes his eyes and hits his head against the back of his chair.  “I’ll admit to getting carried away and kissing her that night.  It didn’t go further than that, sir.  That’s all that happened,” all that is really his business anyway, “before we cleared her.  Call Empathy now.  She’ll tell you the same thing.”

“Except I can’t call her since her last instruction to this department was to only contact her through her lawyer,” is his stern reply.  “Since I’m pretty confident he didn’t set the two of you up on your little date, how’d you end up with Ms. Delacroix?”

That’s going to be tough to explain, but the captain already talked to Frisco.  “Frisco and Sabene Williams, who’s Em’s friend.  They’re friends.  They staged a meeting.”  By this point, my palms are drenched in sweat, so I run them down my pant legs.  Why can I never have everything in my life go right at the same time?  A few weeks ago my personal life was in shambles but my caseloads were progressing.  Now, my partner might be a rat, and while my personal life is pretty much perfect, it is threatening my career.

The captain doesn’t say anything for a long time.  When he does, it is the second greatest relief I have experienced in two days.  “Look, I’ve told you this before.  You’re not to first cop to end up recreationally seeing someone from a case.  She’s the one who called us out with the shrink, right?” 
She sure is
, I think proudly as I confirm it for him.  “Well, at least you picked one with some sense.  And we never found a lick of evidence linking her to the crime, right?”

“Right.  The DNA results didn’t come up with any matches, but they did confirm sex, which is male.  Her financials, which she volunteered, are clean.  Multiple witnesses stated she was the first to leave the stage and piecing together the timeline we can account for her being spotted by multiple members of the cast at time of death.  While she did leave the crime scene, she did so to come straight here.  We’ve never had a more accommodating suspect or witness, sir.”  I can’t let her go back on the suspect list.  If she does, I will have to quit.

“Do we have any suspects now?” he asks.

“None officially.  Other than Fitzwallace, there are a couple of investors popping up in the backgrounds of the photos from papers and websites, like that one,” I indicate by inclining my head towards the damn paper that ratted me out, “which we searched.”

“All of whom this woman has professional relationships with.”  The way he says it makes me uneasy.  I can see the wheels turning in his head.  “Look, I’m officially handing the case over to Hunt and Orbach. 
If
Steve is the mole and Fitzwallace is a suspect, he can’t work it anymore.  You can’t either due to your
very public
relationship with Ms. Delacroix, and you already figured that which is why Steve has been running the investigation.”  He pauses and chews on the inside of his cheek for a few minutes.  “Look, I’m tired of that bastard Fitzwallace making us look like fools at every turn.  What’s your gut tell you about him?”

“That he can’t be trusted and he’s definitely involved in some of the crimes we’ve suspected him of over the years.”

“Then we agree.  How serious is it with Ms. Delacroix?”  There is something unsettling about the way he asks about Em.

“Pretty serious.  Why?” I hesitantly answer.

“Because she is your unofficial confidential informant.  You think she’ll agree?” 
What?!  Cops can’t date their informants
.  “I need to talk to her about your new relationship to cover your ass, Rich,” he explains while pointing a finger at me over his desk.  “Once that’s done, I plan to have her be
my
CI.  That way you can technically date her, but she can still help us nail Fitzwallace.  She can get Frisco and you into the functions he attends.  Since it seems you all now share social circles it shouldn’t be an outlandish move.  You can collect the evidence.  It’ll all be on the books.  No one can say there’s been tampering, that it’s circumstantial, or that we are targeting Fitzwallace, not with your record.  You’re collecting public domain so make sure to pick up an item or two on our other suspects.  These shills always leave something lying around at those parties, a napkin, a drinking glass, something.  If we can get his DNA, we’ll probably be able to close a quarter of our open cases from the last five years.  You need to convince her to do this.”

What he is asking of Em is a big deal.  It’s a big deal to ask it of me.  Fitzwallace is not someone a person trifles with, and I am not comfortable throwing Em into the path of probable destruction.

“How are we going to keep her safe?” I hope the argument will turn the captain off of this crazy idea.  “The minute we file the CI paperwork, whomever the mole, or moles, they’re going to tell Fitzwallace.”

“The paperwork is going to be completed but not processed,” the captain replies, purposely punctuating every single word.  “There’s going to be a backlog that starts in this drawer.”  He opens a locked drawer to his desk.  “I know it’s a lot to ask, Rich.  But this is Fitzwallace we’re talking about.  The bane of the judicial system.  A thorn in
your
brother’s side.  She’s our opportunity, and I’ll keep her safe from the department, just as you’ll keep her safe from everyone else.  You won’t miss a function; in fact, you’ll get paid for them.”

Jesus, my head is spinning.  I’ll get all the time with Em I want which is more than I would get otherwise.  She will be aware of the investigation, so there is no fear of secrets coming between us.  But are those pros enough of a reason to endanger her safety?

Empathy Delacroix: Cloaks and Daggers

I grew worried but not suspicious when Richard called to ask me to dinner.  I should have been both.  His voice wasn’t as warm as I would have expected, though it wasn’t cold either.  I chalk it up to a bad day and accept.  We meet in front of Angus’.  I’m dressed for a date in a simple pencil skirt and blouse.

“You look beautiful,” he croons as he embraces me.  “I missed you today.”  I feel the same way, so I kiss him before agreeing; but it doesn’t go unnoticed that he just seems off.  He is jittery and anxious.

I think we are finally going on a proper date but finding his captain waiting at our table startles me.  “I apologize for ambushing you this way, Ms. Delacroix.”  Richard squeezes my hand as the captain speaks.  This is the reason for his demeanor out front.  “I needed to speak to you about a very delicate subject, without prying eyes.  Thus the cloak and dagger.  Please don’t hold this against my detective.”  I say nothing.  What is there to say?  “Have a seat.”

After I follow his directive, I spend the first fifteen minutes of our meal confirming certain details of my romantic relationship with his detective.  How this is any of his business baffles me, and therefore I hesitate to answer.  Richard whispers in my ear, begging me to tell his captain the truth.  I huff and answer all the uncomfortable questions as if I am a teenager who was caught making out with a boy by her father.

The captain switches to the more pressing topic once that is done.  “Ms. Delacroix, how often are you in the company of the investors of your shows?”

This has to do with Annie’s case.  Why didn’t they just come out and say so?  “Typically, I only interact with them at certain parties for the shows I’m a part of or those I get an invitation to.  Why?”

Richard shifts uneasily in his chair.  His hand held a death grip on mine, which were resting in his lap the whole time.  I should find his presence calming, but his behavior leaves me wary.  Whatever is going on, he certainly isn’t completely on board with.

“It has come to my attention that you run in the social circle of someone who has popped up on our radar more than they should,” the captain outlines.  “Unfortunately, we don’t find the frequency or the fact that they always slip away scot-free a coincidence.”  He pauses as if waiting for me to say something.  Since this can’t be all he has to say, I remain silent.  He puts the rest simply. “We need your help.”

“What all will that entail?” I inquire, my apprehension abundantly clear.
Please tell me Tom wasn’t right; that Richard isn’t using me as a means to an end
.  Richard senses my distress and his thumb starts tracing patterns along the back of my hand.

“All I ask is that you take Detective Giordano to any of these events as you normally would have.  I also ask that you include Theodora Frisco.  That shouldn’t be too much trouble, now should it?”

I narrow my focus on the captain. “What’s the catch?  If that’s truly all you wanted, we wouldn’t all be here.”

A sly smirk turns up the corner of one side of the captain’s mouth.  “Shrewd deduction,” he acknowledges with a nod.  “That’ll definitely play into our favor.  I want this done right, which means we need to list you as an informant.  That way any evidence we gather is no longer circumstantial.  Frisco is going to play partner to our detective since the precedence of her attendance is already established.”

There are holes in his story, which I don’t necessarily hold against him, but I hate only being privy to half.  “Basically, you want me to continue to date your detective until you’ve gotten what you need on your suspect?” I summarize and the captain nods.  “What if we don’t work out?”

Richard jumps, hitting his knee on the table and causing my wine glass to tip over.  I right the glass and throw my napkin over the spill but hold the gaze of the captain as I wait for my answer.