Chapter Fifty-Eight #2
“Fair enough. I’m sure I can rack my brain and come up with a couple of names. But I genuinely don’t think any of them would be capable of this. This is… insane,” she said after searching for the right word for a second.
“It is,” I agreed. “I can’t figure out if you were just meant to die and have it look like suicide, or if it was purposely done to send you to the hospital and make you look, for lack of a better word, crazy.”
“Yeah, that’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?” she asked as she poured another glass.
“What do you remember about that night?” I asked.
“Not as much as I feel like I should,” she admitted, brows scrunching. “I definitely remember coming home. Then I have flashes of ordering Chinese, running a bath, putting a bottle of red to breathe on the counter, and then hearing the buzzer. And that’s… it.”
“A bottle of red?” I asked, then watched as her gaze went to the kitchen, putting the pieces together. “Could someone have moved it?”
“Cam?” she suggested.
“No. He said he never touched anything here. He bought you all new shit for your little bag for the back of the car. He didn’t want to ‘taint the scene’ or anything. Do you have a cleaning lady?”
“Yes!” she said, brightening a bit. “Yes. I can ask her. She’s never dumped an entire bottle of wine, though, is the strange part. She may have put the glass away, but I really don’t see her doing that. She’d be worried it was expensive. And it was.”
“We will ask anyway,” I said. “Jot down what kind of wine it was,” I said, reaching for the small notepad with its attached pen in my pocket, and passing it to her. “And this is the same Chinese food place you ordered from that night?” I asked, waving at the food.
“Yes. Always. They know my number when I call,” she admitted with a guilty little smile.
“That’s good, though, for the case. They’ll remember if they sent someone out last week. Who found you?” I asked.
Her lips parted at that. “I… I have no idea. And my doorman didn’t have any idea that anything had happened. I just spoke to him.”
“Does he ever leave his station?”
“No… yes. To run errands for us sometimes. Pick up tickets. Grab something from the corner market. Not often, but he will do it because we all give him a handsome bonus.”
“That could explain why he didn’t know. But someone would have seen the ambulances and cops.”
“You’re going to talk to my neighbors?” she asked, looking horrified.
“I might have to,” I told her honestly. “If they saw anything, we need to know about that.”
To that, she let out a deep sigh.
“Okay.”
“I am going to do everything I can to keep this quiet, Miranda,” I promised her, understanding how it could impact her reputation and her status in her industry.
“I really can’t afford any negative publicity right now.”
“Why? Is something important happening?”
“My company is doing a takeover of another company,” she explained, making a chuckle escape me. “What?”
“And you don’t think you have any enemies, sweetheart? When you’re doing a takeover.”
“It’s not a hostile takeover. We all agreed to this.”
“No, correction. You and the other shareholders agreed to this. The workers didn’t. And when workers hear ‘takeover’ or ‘merger,’ they hear ‘layoffs’ at the same time. And people in tight spots, worried about their income, they do desperate-ass shit.”
“I can see that. But this level of desperate?” she asked, waving at her arm.
“Honey, some people are cracked,” I said, shrugging.
As much as I hated to think about those times anymore, I damn sure came across a lot of cracked people in my time. Some people did the most fucked up shit you can imagine. And some things that you couldn’t even imagine.
Most of those people walked around the world like your average, everyday people. Ones you brushed shoulders with on the street, you engaged in silly small talk with at the water cooler, ones you invited into your house to fix your hot water heater.
“Yeah,” she agreed, exhaling hard, her mind far away.
I guess maybe she was back at the psych facility, thinking about some of the people that she’d seen there.
The difference was, of course, that the people she was with at that facility were not criminally insane. They were a whole different thing entirely.
“Okay. Security,” I said.
“What do you mean?”
“Do you have any here? Cameras? Motion sensors?”
“I’m just a businesswoman, not a celebrity,” she said, shaking her head. “I have good locks. I have a code. But no cameras.”
“Okay. Well, you need to have cameras,” I insisted.
“Yes, definitely,” she agreed immediately. “I don’t think I’d be comfortable being here alone without it.”
“You’re not going to be alone.”
“What?” she asked, looking over at me, brows scrunched. “Aren’t you an investigator? Not private security?”
“Sometimes we do both,” I told her. “We even have safe rooms at the office if we need them.”
“That’s good to know. Are your offices close?”
“They’re in Navesink Bank.”
“New Jersey?” Miranda asked. “Why would Cam go to New Jersey for an investigator?”
“Because we’re the best there is,” I told her, shrugging. “We’re known for dealing with a more elite clientele. Which is likely how Cam came across us.”
“You’re going to travel into the city all the time to handle my case?”
“For what you’re going to be paying us for, baby, we will squat in a tent on your balcony if it is necessary.”
“There is a team?” she asked.
“Yes. I am taking the lead on this, but we also have Sawyer, the owner, as well as Tig. We will all be on this case, but I am likely who will liaise with you personally. If that is acceptable with you,” I added with a small smirk.
I hadn’t missed the eye-fucking she’d done when I’d first turned around. Even if she’d been willing to bash my head in with a goddess statue for being in her place uninvited.
“That will be fine,” she said, averting her gaze.
“How is the security at your workplace?” I asked.
“There are guards in the lobby. You can’t get into the elevator without signing in and getting a pass. Then to get to my office personally, at least a dozen people will see you. And it is a glass office, so there’s no way something could happen to me in there.”
“Okay. That’s good. So you’ll be safe when you’re there. I can use that time to investigate. Then I can meet you back here when you are done with your workday.”
“Every day?” she asked, likely not used to having people in her personal space.
“Until the cameras are up and working, yes. And then anytime there is something to discuss on the case.”
“Okay,” she agreed, exhaling hard.
“Hey,” I said, voice soft, waiting for her gaze to lift to find mine. “It’s going to be okay,” I told her.
“It needs to be,” she said. “So what is the plan for tonight? I’m assuming there isn’t enough time left to get a new security system in here?”
“There’s always enough time if you are willing to pay. But, personally, I wouldn’t just want to take anyone’s system in a situation like this. I would want the good shit. And that is going to require a consultation.”
“Alright. And you can set that up?”
“I have them on stand-by. Give me a time that works for you.”
“Tomorrow evening. When I finish work.”
“And when do you finish work?” I asked.
“Typically after seven or eight. But I will cut it early tomorrow. Will six be too late?”
“No. That’s fine. I will let them know,” I told her, already reaching for my phone. “Speaking of phones. Cam is coming by sometime to drop off yours. My number will now be in there, under my name. Sawyer and Tig’s numbers will be there as well, just in case you can’t get in touch with me.”
“Okay. Good. Do you really anticipate there being more problems from this person?”
“Yes. If they didn’t finish what they planned to, then yes. You’re going to need to be careful and aware when you are alone.”
“I can do that. So what about tonight?” she asked, looking toward her front door.
“Tonight, I am going to stay here.”
“You don’t have to do that,” she said, but there was no conviction behind her words.
“It’s already settled,” I assured her. “Don’t mind me. I won’t be in your hair. Just do what you would normally do. Try to ignore that I’m even here.”