MURDER ON A DESIGNER DIET (16 page)

Chapter 33

  

After a surprisingly short night of work, Penelope got back to the hotel a little after one in the morning. The director had gotten what he needed in a few takes and decided the crew needed a break. He hadn't decided if they'd be working the next day for sure, so Penelope and the rest of the crew had to wait to hear from production about their next call time. She took a hot shower, then wiped the steam from the mirror to check out her bruises. The edges had faded to an orange-yellow color. After brushing out her wet hair and slipping into some clean pajamas, Penelope stared at the empty bed, stark white with its comforter pulled tight across, undisturbed.

She thought about Joey, about the last time they were really happy, right here in this room. It had only been a couple of days, but already it felt like a lifetime since she'd seen him. She hadn't heard back from him since she left the message about finding Adir, which left her feeling slightly wounded and desperate to hear his voice. But it also made her a bit angry with him for not being there for her when she really needed him, or acknowledging all she was doing to help him.

She pulled the comforter aside and slipped beneath it, turning off the light and silencing her phone. She was asleep within minutes.

  

A series of loud knocks on her hotel room door jarred her from sleep. She sat up in bed, trying to figure out what time it was based on the sliver of sunlight between the blackout curtains. Wiping the sleep from her eyes, she glanced at the clock on the bedside table and saw it was just after nine. The knocking started up again and Penelope shook her head.

“Hang on a second,” Penelope said, throwing aside the heavy comforter. She looked through the peephole and saw a familiar face, her heart skipping in her chest.

“Max!” Penelope said, swinging the door open wide. She pulled him inside and hugged him tightly, standing up on her tiptoes to reach around his neck.

“Pen,” Max said in a raspy voice. “It's so good to see you.”

“Come in,” Penelope said, releasing him and stepping aside. “Where have you been?”

She watched Max walk into the room, his tall frame appearing larger than life to her tired eyes.

“I've been around, sorting through some things,” Max said.

“Arlena must be so relieved you came back,” Penelope said. She sat down on the edge of the bed and Max sat in one of the club chairs.

“I haven't seen her yet.” Max's eyes had purple bags under them. He looked completely exhausted.

“Max, you have to tell her, and your dad. They're so worried.”

“I know,” Max said. “I'm going to head up there in a minute. But I wanted to talk to you first.”

“Why?” Penelope asked.

“I need to thank you for trying to help me. I'm sorry I called and got you involved in this mess.” Max looked at Penelope's face and winced at her bruised eye. “I put you in danger. You got hurt and it's totally my fault.”

“Max, I'm just glad you're okay.”

“The thing with Christian…I can't remember everything that happened and it scares me. We'd all had a lot to drink…then I think I was hit from behind. I remember arguing with him and then maybe someone coming to the door. Then all I remember is seeing his dead body. There was no one else in the apartment. I panicked and ran.”

“What about Hannah?” Penelope asked.

Max shook his head. “I just don't remember.”

“You don't know who killed Christian?”

“No,” Max said, a pained expression on his face. “I don't want to think it was Hannah, but I know it wasn't me. I've been walking around trying to get my mind to go back.”

“Hannah's got no problem blaming you for the murder,” Penelope said. “If you were hit on the head, it's possible you won't ever remember, Max.”

“I know, and that's the scariest part. Pen, do you think I could shoot someone and not remember it?” Max propped his elbows on his knees and dropped his head into his hands.

Penelope stood up and walked over to Max and looped her arms around his shoulders. “Of course not. You would never do anything like that, Max.”

He became very still and leaned into her, his shoulders tense under his leather jacket. They stayed like that for a few moments before Penelope said, “You need a hot shower and some sleep. You're going to feel better, I promise. I've been looking into some things Christian may have been involved with at that house—”

Max jolted upright, looking at her. “Pen, please don't get mixed up any more with these people. If you get hurt again because of me—”

“Max, I want to help you and Arlena. If I can do something to get you out of trouble, I'm going to do it.”

Penelope sat down in the opposite chair. “Look, it's none of my business, but what is going on with you and Sienna?” Penelope asked quietly.

Max looked at her, an ironic smile passing over his lips. “She's a great person and an even greater friend.”

“I can see that, but what is happening between you two?”

Max sighed. “We're having a baby.”

Penelope sat back in her chair and crossed her arms at her waist. “Congratulations?” she finally said.

Max laughed quietly. “Thanks.”

“So Hannah finds out about you and Sienna and tries to get back at you by pinning a murder on you?”

Max's face became very still and his features darkened. “That's what it looks like, doesn't it?”

“Where is Sienna now?” Penelope asked.

“I'm not sure,” Max said. “We haven't spoken since the night Christian died.”

  

After Max left, Penelope showered and dressed, then picked up her phone to check her messages. The first one was from Gary in production.

“We've sent out an email to let you know, but I'm also following up with all the department heads. There's been a casting change on the set involving one of the leads, so we're delaying for two days to get the new talent caught up. Check your email for dates and particulars.”

Penelope sighed and deleted the voicemail, then pressed her phone back to her ear to listen to the next one.

“Penelope, it's Denise. I've got something for you. Call me when you get this.”

Penelope hit the call back option and listened to the phone ring a few times before she heard the familiar “Gomez.”

“It's Penelope. What's up?”

“I sat on the house last night. I saw the new delivery come through.”

Penelope glanced out of her hotel window in the general direction of Joyce Alves's building. “How many girls?”

“At least three, from what I could see,” Officer Gomez said. “A little after two in the morning.”

“I'm going to try and get one of them,” Penelope said.

“I still think it's too dangerous. If it goes wrong, I could lose my job. Even worse, these children could be in more danger.”

“You're not telling me to do it, remember? And if it goes right, we'll help them all escape, and put Joyce away. Isn't it worth a try?” Penelope started gathering up her things and loading them into her purse. She pulled her jacket from the closet. “You know what? You think about it. I'm leaving now. Be there in twenty.”

  

Penelope trotted down Mrs. Sotheby's steps, waving goodbye and pulling the door closed quietly behind her. She ducked around the corner to where Officer Gomez was waiting, leaning up against the building gazing at her phone.

“What were you doing in there?” she asked.

“Just saying hi. And I asked her to keep an eye on the courtyard from upstairs, to call for help if I need it,” Penelope said. She tucked her white dress shirt into her black slacks. “How do I look?”

Officer Gomez looked down at her outfit. “Like you're going on a job interview.”

“Good,” Penelope said. “I was going for professional.”

Officer Gomez shook her head. “We have a senior citizen as our surveillance backup and a personal chef as our undercover agent. And me out here with no way to hear what's going on inside. So far this seems like a great plan.” She muttered something in Spanish under her breath that Penelope couldn't translate.

“I'm going to record our conversation,” Penelope said, pulling her phone out of her jacket pocket. “We're just going to talk. I assume it's not like a convenience store where I swipe my credit card and get to walk out with a child laborer. She's either going to agree to a transaction with me or she's going to act like she doesn't know what I'm talking about.”

Officer Gomez nodded, but still seemed unsure. “I saw the girls go in, but I can really nail for trafficking if I catch her in the act of selling one of them. If it doesn't work, I'm calling it in and getting them out, charging her with false imprisonment.”

“I'm just worried she'll say she's adopted them and that's their dorm room,” Penelope said. “She's got that paperwork. She'll walk out of the station, grab them up and they'll all be gone by morning. She's intimidating to them, remember? I doubt they will say anything against her.”

“I know,” Officer Gomez said, setting her jaw in a tight line. “Okay, do what you can.”

“Right,” Penelope said. “Let's see what happens.”

After a few more minutes of debate and warnings to be safe, Penelope brushed off her jacket and walked around the corner of the house, past the courtyard and up the stoop, pressing the button to ring MUI. The door buzzed open and she was greeted in the reception area by Joyce, the initial look of expectation on her face falling into disappointment when she saw it was Penelope.

“Oh, it's you. What can I do for you?” Joyce asked with a note of boredom in her voice.

“I'm here on behalf of Arlena,” Penelope said. “She's interested in hiring some additional talent from you.”

Joyce's expression perked up. “Really? I see. In that case, please take a seat. I'll be with you shortly. I'm just finishing up with another client.”

“Okay, I can wait a few minutes,” Penelope said. She took a seat in front of the hearth and watched Joyce walk down the hall to the conference room. She thought about going to the kitchen to check on Sinay, but didn't want to agitate Joyce if she caught her back there snooping. Penelope pulled her phone out of her blazer pocket and checked that it was still recording, slipping it back in quickly when she heard the conference door open.

“Thank you. We can get that sorted out for you right away,” Joyce said as she led someone back down the hall.

Penelope watched as they walked towards her, catching a glimpse of a tall blond man in the darkened hallway. Penelope kept her face as still as possible when she finally saw his face, recognizing Jesse immediately as he entered the main room. He looked at Penelope and did a quick double take, locking his eyes onto hers and then looking away. When he reached the door he turned to say goodbye to Joyce, shaking her hand firmly.

Joyce led Penelope down the hall to the conference room she and Jesse had just vacated. Penelope took a seat at the table.

“Did Miss Madison decide on the girls for her show? We haven't held the in-person auditions yet,” Joyce said.

“No, this is for something else,” Penelope said. “Arlena wishes to become a Blue Card client. She was told you could help with that.” She crossed her legs and sat back in her chair, forcing her shoulders to relax under her jacket.

Joyce pinched her lips. “And who referred her to the Blue Card program?” Joyce said, eyeing Penelope suspiciously.

“Sienna Wentworth,” Penelope said without hesitation, taking a chance that her gamble would pay off. “You know they're dear friends. Sienna recommended she get in touch with you if she needed extra help.”

“Where is Arlena?” Joyce asked. “I prefer to deal with clients directly when hiring out talent. We have a standard contract we use, which she will have to sign. No agents.”

Penelope nodded. “Can you give her an idea of what you have to offer? And the cost?”

“Have her get in touch, and we'll see what we can work out,” Joyce said.

“Arlena is very busy, and she'll be disappointed if I don't come back with the information she asked for. Can you at least give me a ballpark figure? I have to report back to her with at least that much.”

“Twenty up front, non-negotiable,” Joyce said flatly.

Penelope stood up. “I'll relay the message and get back with you by tomorrow.”

  

Penelope and Officer Gomez sat in Mrs. Sotheby's kitchen and listened to the recording on Penelope's phone while she heated up the kettle for tea.

“She doesn't say anything incriminating,” Officer Gomez said. “She doesn't trust you enough.”

“I can see why she'd be cautious,” Penelope said.

“She could be talking about anything. Even about hiring models, which is her legitimate business,” Officer Gomez said, turning off the recording. “It was a nice try, but this isn't enough.”

“I saw someone I knew in there,” Penelope said. “One of the models from Sienna's show.”

“He's probably represented by the agency,” Officer Gomez said, leaning back in her chair. She was in her street clothes, her long black hair curling over her shoulders.

“Maybe,” Penelope said. “I saw him when I went to talk to Sienna that next day at her hotel suite. He was there with his girlfriend. I woke them all up.” Penelope thought back to the girl's legs she saw in the bed. Something tugged at the back of her mind, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

“Okay, it's time to call this in,” Officer Gomez said. “I can probably get her for holding the girls in that basement against their will. And for the physical abuse to Sinay, who will be my witness. Hopefully we can get the rest of the charges lined up against her.”

“And what if you can't?” Penelope asked. “If Joyce has been doing this for a while, she must be good at getting through the red tape. And she might be getting help from powerful people, like you said.”