CELEBRITY STATUS (The Kate Huntington mystery series #4) (26 page)

            “’Cause a lot of times, people forget it’s a contraction for
you are
and spell it like the possessive
your
.”
Especially if their brains are mush from drugs
.

            “So what’s that mean?” Manny asked.

            “What that means is this whole note doesn’t sound like our prime suspect, which is not going to make Skip very happy. How’s Cherise taking it?”

            “Uh, she doesn’t know yet. She’s not here, went for a drive.”

            “Who’s with her?” Now that Ben was once again guarding Kate, Manny was Cherise’s personal guard. He was supposed to take her wherever she wanted to go.

            “Nobody. She wouldn’t let me go with her.”

            Rose ground her teeth. “Oh, goody, we have a prime suspect in the wind, a note that doesn’t match the previous ones, and an uncooperative client. Excuse me, Manny, while I find a brick wall to bang my head against.”

            “Use Cherise’s head. It’s about that hard.”

            Rose chuckled. “Okay, since she’s not there anyway, you can send the note into the office with one of the outside guys.”

            “Will do.” Manny disconnected.

            Rose headed for Skip’s office. She filled him in, then shook her head. “We can’t be responsible for this woman’s safety if she’s gonna keep slipping the leash.”

            “Kate said that having somebody around 24/7 gets to some people, makes them desperate for alone time.” Skip stood up. “But you’re right. Come on, partner. It’s time we had it out with Cherise, and with any kinda luck she’ll get pissed off enough to fire us.”

            “I was lookin’ for a job when I found this one,” Rose said as she followed him out the door.

            Three minutes after they’d left the offices of Canfield and Hernandez, the fax machine spit out two sheets of paper.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

            While Skip drove, Rose tried calling Cherise’s cell phone. She got voicemail. “Lady doesn’t want to get found right now apparently. What happens if she’s not home by the time we get there?”

            “Then we leave her a polite note suggesting she retain another company to meet her security needs,” Skip said.

            Cherise’s car was in the driveway when they arrived, and Cherise herself opened her front door. A huge grin spread across her face when she saw Skip. “What a delightful surprise,” she said. Before he could stop her, she had her arms almost all the way around his waist. He twisted away slightly before she could connect with his gun butt.

            “I wish you wouldn’t do that, Cherise. It makes me nervous when people get too close to my gun. Can’t we just air kiss like they do in Hollywood.”

            Cherise laughed and mimicked kissing him on each cheek. “Sorry, I keep forgetting that’s where you carry your pistol.”

           
Like hell you do,
Skip thought. Out loud he said, “We need to discuss a few things with you. Did Manny tell you about the latest note?”

            “Yes, and it doesn’t make any sense at all.” Cherise led them over to the group of sofas. “If Kirk’s the stalker, he knows we’ve identified him, so why would he say that I don’t know who he is?”

            “Couple other things don’t add up,” Rose said. “The tone of the recent notes is different. And this guy’s never called you ‘my love’ until recently. Did Thompson call you that when you were together?”

            Cherise shook her head.

            Skip threw his hands up in the air. “Great! We’ve got a copycat.”

            “I think I want to put up that fence,” Cherise said, with a quaver in her voice.

            “Go ahead, but remember what I said. Don’t let it give you a false sense of security. Fences can be climbed, cut or tunneled under.”

            Rose figured this was a good opening. “Actually, Cherise, Skip and I feel like we’re not able to handle your security needs properly anymore. We’re primarily a private investigating agency. The bodyguard service is just a sideline. Providing people, long-term, to patrol fences day and night is just not our thing. But we’d be happy to do some research and find a reputable firm to take over.”

            “And I think that’s what you need now, Cherise,” Skip chimed in. “A company that can provide regular patrols around the property indefinitely, ’cause even if we figure out who this guy is, there may be other copycats. We can’t go on like this. Our personnel are just stretched too thin now.”

            “So that’s why you both came out today, to tell me in person that I’m not your client anymore,” Cherise said, her face a neutral mask.

            “I’m afraid so, Cherise.” Skip tried to make his voice sound regretful. “We didn’t feel it was right to tell you over the phone.”

            Suddenly Cherise’s face brightened. “Hey, I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you vet a security firm for me to do the patrols here at the farm, but you all still provide my personal bodyguard and keep investigating who the stalker is? And you can consider the other firm a subcontractor. I’m fine with you adding a percentage for yourselves to what they bill you.”

            Skip and Rose looked at each other. They both gave the other a slight shake of their heads, but Cherise was looking at Rose. Her face tightened.

            “Well, we have a couple of problems with that, Cherise,” Skip said. “Number one, we understand you’ve been refusing to take your bodyguard with you sometimes, when you’ve gone out recently.”

            “I’m sorry, Skip, I just started to feel like I couldn’t hear myself think with somebody else around all the time.”

            Skip held up his hand. “We understand that feeling, but nonetheless, we can’t be responsible for protecting you if you’re not going to cooperate. And our second issue is that we really have almost nothing to go on now regarding who might be sending these notes. We’re just plain out of leads.”

            “I may have an idea about that actually. Something just occurred to me. But first can we agree that you’ll stay my main security people and subcontract whatever services you’re not directly equipped to handle?”

            The partners looked at each other again. This time Rose spoke for both of them. “We will find another company and set it up for you, but not as our subcontractor. We’ll try to shake loose some leads on these more recent notes, but once we’ve caught the stalker or have reached a total dead end, we’re off the case.”

            “What about my personal bodyguard?” Cherise asked, a tremor in her voice. “I know your guys. I don’t want a total stranger in my house again. It gets kind of creepy.”

            Skip looked at Rose. “It’s your call, partner,” he said.

            Rose had been chewing on that piece of the deal. As long as they were investigating the notes, it would probably be best to have their own man on the inside, to report immediately any new ones, and to handle them properly. “We’ll provide you with a personal bodyguard as long as we continue to investigate the notes, but once that’s done, we’re done completely. And if you ditch your bodyguard again, we’re done completely. Including the investigating.”

            “I’ll be good from now on,” Cherise said, turning to Skip and smiling at him. “So since you came out here today you must feel that the threat of the paparazzi following you is gone. Does this mean you’ll be my bodyguard again, Skip?”

            “No, I have a business to run. I was only guarding you in public before, when the risk was the greatest, and we don’t dare do that again ’cause it’ll stir up the paparazzi.”

            “Oh, I think I’ve put that to rest permanently,” Cherise said.

            “What do you mean?”

            “You’ll see. It’s a surprise.”

            Skip wasn’t too sure he wanted any surprises from Cherise but he let it go. She was being remarkably calm and cooperative. He didn’t want to tick her off at this point.

            “So what was your idea about who might be sending the notes now?” Rose asked.

            “Gee, I almost hate to say this, in case I’m wrong. But I’m wondering if these more recent notes are coming from Johnny.”

            “Your singing partner?” Skip asked. “I thought he was happily engaged to somebody?”

            “He is, engaged anyway, but maybe not so happily anymore. When we were pretending to be a couple, we had to act like one in public. We hugged, danced close, even kissed sometimes. I’m wondering now if maybe he’s carrying a secret torch for me.”

            “That would fit with this last note,” Rose said. “He might be expecting you to figure out that he’s in love with you. Does he call you ‘my love’?”

            “Not in private, but he did in public when we were pretending to date.”

            “Let’s back up a note,” Skip said. “Who would he consider to be the people who are keeping you apart? What’s stopping him from breaking up with his fiancée and declaring his love for you?”

            “I don’t know, Skip, but anybody who sends anonymous notes as a way to court a woman is not totally rational, especially when he knows how much the other notes upset me.”

            “To answer your question, Skip,” Rose said. “If Troop believed the media hype that you were Cherise’s new boyfriend, he would see you as in the way.”

            Skip shook his head slightly at his partner. He didn’t want to get into the sabotage of the van. Rose nodded and stood up.

            “I’ll keep you posted on the investigation,” she said to Cherise. “Manny will be with you during the day, but I’m afraid you’ll have to get used to a new guy on the night shift. He’s been very carefully screened and he’ll try to stay out of your hair.”

            “Isn’t Ben available?”

            “No, he’s on another assignment,” Rose replied.

            Cherise made a little moue with her mouth, then gave them a smile that didn’t quite make it to her eyes. “Tell him I said hi. He’s a nice guy.”

            Rose and Skip started for the door.

            “Uh, Skip, could I speak to you privately please, for just a moment?” Cherise said.

            Rose gave a little shake of her head, but Skip didn’t see how he could politely refuse. “Sure. I’ll be out in a minute, Rose.” His eyes telegraphed,
Come rescue me if I’m not.

            Rose walked out the door. Cherise closed it behind her, then turned back toward Skip with fire in her eyes. “I can’t believe you let your dyke partner talk you into abandoning me.”

            Skip literally took a step back. His hands came up in front of him. Then he took a deep breath and willed his fists to relax. “Rose is not gay and she did not talk me into anything. We are equal business partners, but
I
am the one who has the final say in what cases we take, or keep, because I’m the more experienced investigator.”

            “So what were all the little head shakes and nods about?”

            Skip had a short debate with himself. They had just negotiated themselves a gracious escape route out of this case. Should he make nice-nice to preserve that? He shook his head. The part of him that was fed up with this woman had won the argument.

            “It’s called nonverbal communication, Cherise, and we were both doing it. Now, unless you want to end your contract with us right now, I need to go.”

            “Oh, no, no, Skip. I’m sorry. I misunderstood.”

            Skip reached the door in two long strides. Cherise followed him out onto the porch. “Stop, Skip. Don’t go away mad. I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions.” She grabbed at his arm. “Kiss, kiss,” she said, as she made air kisses in the general direction of his cheeks.

            “Gotta go, Cherise. We’ll let you know about the other firm as soon as we’ve got them vetted.” Skip jogged down the sidewalk toward his truck where Rose was waiting for him.

            Cherise waved at him from the porch, then suddenly she was bolting toward him as he started to climb into his truck. “Wait, Skip!” she yelled.

            “What now?” Rose muttered from the passenger seat. Skip stopped, half in the vehicle, half out.

            Cherise ran behind the truck and stooped down. She came up with two kittens in her hands. “Sorry, these little idiots haven’t figured out yet that the middle of the driveway is not a good place to sun themselves.

            “Talk to you soon, Skip,” she said, smiling at him, then turned and walked back to the house.

* * *

            Skip ended up talking to her a lot sooner than he would have liked. When they got back to the office, Rose found the sheets from the media service in the fax bin.

            She took them to his office. “What now?” Skip said, his voice sharp.

            “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger,” Rose said.

            “Sorry. Give ‘em to me.” He let out a resigned sigh and held out his hand.

            Same old picture of him and Cherise at Merriweather. “Aren’t they getting tired of that one. Edges must be ragged by now,” he said.

            The caption was
New Beau?
He read the first sentence of the article
. Cherise Martin’s publicist confirmed today that the popular singer does indeed have a new boyfriend, although he would not say who the new beau was.

            “Damn it to hell!” Skip threw the pages across his desk. Rose nabbed them before they slithered off the other side. He put his elbows on the desk and buried his face in his hands. “Does it get any worse than the first sentence?” he asked.

            “Not really. Just rehashes the original speculations, your press conference denial,” Rose said, as she skimmed the article. “Oops, wait a minute. Not good.”

            “What is it?”

            “At the end.” She read out loud, “When Jim Bolton, Ms. Martin’s publicist, was asked who the new boyfriend is, he said, ‘Cherise has told you before that a girl doesn’t kiss and tell.’”