Rules of Engagement (Lexi Graves Mysteries, 11) Read online

  Francesca stepped out of the room we'd just vacated. "Looking for this?" she asked, holding my cellphone aloft.

  "Yes!" I blew out a relieved gasp. "I knew I last had it when we were in here. It must have slipped out of my pocket.

  "I just found it on the floor when I heard the bell. I'm glad you realized you left it but I would have brought it to your office if you hadn't come back," she said.

  "I appreciate that," I said as I took it.

  "Lexi?" she started hesitantly before waving a hand dismissively. "Oh, never mind. It's nothing."

  I watched her face, noticing the frown lines and worry in her eyes, two things the falsely bright smile couldn't quite conceal. I knew if I asked Francesca if she were okay, she would brush me off. Instead, I said, "Tell me what's wrong."

  She hesitated before saying, "Is it that obvious?"

  I nodded.

  "Something's going on with my assistant and I don't know what to do. It's probably nothing..."

  "But your gut tells you otherwise?"

  "Yes."

  "How can I help?"

  "I thought, maybe, well, because you're a private investigator, maybe you could suggest something I can do to find out what is really going on. She's been pretty secretive and evasive."

  "She's normally open?"

  "Oh, yes. Usually Keira is great, but lately... I just have a bad feeling."

  "Why don't you tell me about it and I'll see what I can suggest?"

  "Okay." Francesca drew me into the backroom and shut the door. We pulled out two chairs and sat at the table while I waited for Francesca to begin.

  Chapter Two

  "It's probably nothing," Francesca said, trailing off with a worried gulp.

  "If your gut feeling says it's something, then it's something," I said. So far, it was a tried-and-true sensation that worked well for me so I was pretty big on trusting my intuition whenever something felt off.

  "Do you think so?"

  "That has always been my experience," I told her. "Why are you so worried about your assistant?"

  "I'm not worried about her, not so much as I am about her behavior." She looked away, staring at the ceiling for a moment while she carefully chose her words. "I hired Keira four years ago and she's always been great. The best assistant I could ask for! She earned a degree in communications and had a solid career in event planning before she took the job with me. To be very honest with you, Lexi, I was surprised she applied to be my assistant."

  "Why was that?"

  "I know a few people at her former firm, so I know what they earn. Her salary would have been higher there and her prospects much better. This particular firm has a footprint in several US cities so her potential to climb the ladder is infinitely larger than what I can offer. I just own a small business. My turnover is good and I'm always busy. That's why I had to hire an assistant! However, I can't compete with her former salary, benefits, or prospects."

  "Did you bring that up with Keira during the interview, or any time after?"

  "Yes, I did. She told me she needed to scale back her life. The reduction in salary would be balanced by a reduction in her time commitment. Fewer late nights, weekends, commuting, and travel. She said she had already considered that factor and it worked out well for her. I believed her. She seemed so genuine."

  "But you don't know?"

  "I'm not sure now."

  "Why did you hire her? The reduction in salary for less time commitment makes sense, but not the loss of future prospects," I said.

  "I asked that question too. She said that her years in event planning made her realize she was no longer interested in smashing a glass ceiling and working every hour she could, while hoping one day to become a partner. She said she wasn’t happy doing that. She wanted to try an alternate route, one that would give her a happier life and enable her to do the things she couldn’t squeeze into her personal life."

  "Did that seem true?"

  "Until a couple months ago, yes. I know she took up some new hobbies and she went on her first vacation in five years. Keira is a great asset to me. She works so hard, she brings in customers, and her skills have developed far beyond what they were. Her background in event planning gave her plenty of experience in how to throw a big party and a wedding isn't unlike that; plus, she managed to bring new vendors to the business. All of my customers like her and I never had to worry about handing over the reins when I was sick or taking a vacation. She's more than capable."

  "So far, this is all sounding good. Tell me what's worrying you. What changed and when?"

  "Around two months ago, Keira took a few vacation days. She said she was heading out of town but a couple of my suppliers mentioned they saw her but they wouldn't tell me why."

  "Is that unusual?"

  "Very unusual. For one, Keira wasn't where she said she was; and two, she must have been talking to the suppliers about issues that weren't related to my business."

  "Anything else?"

  "One more little thing. She planned the entire wedding for a couple she knew. College friends, I think and we argued about it. I said she should have brought them to the salon as regular customers. She said she was doing it as a favor and not on company time. It blew over pretty quick, and I thought I made myself perfectly clear, but I caught wind that soon after that, she advised another couple about their wedding too."

  "Against your wishes?"

  "Yes! I can't have my assistant organizing weddings as a side business. What would stop her from taking my clients and running me into the ground?”

  "Is that what you think she's doing?"

  Francesca nodded. "I can't think of any other reason. There're other signs too. Phone calls that end abruptly as soon as I enter a room, and I’ve seen her approaching new vendors without discussing them with me. I even saw a realtor listing for a vacant store in her purse. Lexi, I'm afraid I brought a cuckoo into my nest and now, she wants to push me out."

  "I can see why you're upset. Where can I find the listing for the store?" I asked, making a note when she gave me the address.

  "I've puzzled over what to do for these past few weeks. I built my business from nothing. I used to work out of my house until I could afford to buy this building. I didn't even have a desk! I worked from a laptop at my kitchen table and I met clients in their homes until I could put down a deposit on the salon. I sunk most of my savings into turning it into the kind of place brides would come to from all over the county. I've had to wear many hats: marketing, publicity, vendor liaison, troubleshooter, even couples counselor. I don't want to lose everything I've worked for! And I'm nowhere near close to retirement. Can you help me?"

  "I'm sure I can," I decided all at once. Francesca looked almost green at the prospect of losing her business and I felt sorry for her. It must be horrible to think someone she hired and nurtured was now working against her own interests. It was infinitely more stressful than choosing cake flavors. "What would you like me to do?" I asked.

  "Find out if Keira is planning a hostile takeover and stealing my business clients so she can set up her own firm," she said.

  "What would happen if I discover she is planning to do that?" I asked as gently as I could.

  Francesca sighed "I would have no choice but to fire her. I don't want to. She's been a terrific asset and I don't want to lose her; but I can't allow her to destroy me either! If she is planning a takeover, I could never trust her again."

  "Tell me everything you know about Keira and I'll find out what I can," I assured her. "I have some free time so I'll look into it today."

  "Really? You'd really do that?" Francesca brightened.

  "Absolutely. It'll help me work off all the cake I ate."

  "I'll pay you, of course. I'm not asking you to work off the books. That would be shady, especially given what I've just told you."

  "I don't think Solomon will mind," I assured her. "I like to take a pro bono case every once in a while."

  "Why don't I give you a d
iscount then for your wedding plans? How does twenty percent off sound?" asked Francesca.

  I mentally calculated how much the wedding would cost. My math wasn't great but when it came to calculating discounts, I magically morphed into a human computer. I'd never be able to determine a rocket's trajectory to the moon, but I could definitely work out the benefits of a buy-one-get-one-free, or half off, and certainly, any twenty percent discount! If I were into couponing, I'd probably never get anything else done. "Sounds fine to me," I agreed. "I'll need a few more details to get you an answer as soon as I can, but I have to warn you, you might not like what I find."

  "Anything has to be better than the stress of worrying so much," said Francesca.

  ~

  By the time I sprinted to my car, I was mere seconds away from a parking ticket. But thankfully, I also had two pages of notepaper filled with pertinent details about Keira Bell, and a smiling, professional image of her face that I snapped with my cellphone.

  I couldn't be certain but I thought Francesca looked less worried when I left, almost like the potential relief of getting an actual answer must have reduced some of the strain. What she told me didn't sound that terrible but I had to agree that her assistant might have been plotting a move on her business. According to Francesca, Keira had taken four vacation days, which Francesca suspected Keira was actually using to work out a business plan and a way to possibly steal her vendors for an inevitable, new competing business.

  Instead of returning to the agency's offices to finish up the small amount of paperwork I had left from my previous impostor-slash-missing person case, I decided to swing by Keira's house.

  Keira lived in a very smart, brick duplex with matching wooden shutters at every window that mirrored its twin side perfectly. The door was painted in a very stylish gray and flanked with identical potted olive trees. Each side of the duplex had a one-car driveway. The left side had a Mini parked in it. Keira's side was empty. I parked my car and watched from the street for a little while but no one crossed a window or showed any evidence of being home.

  The neighborhood was a nice one, and on the more expensive end of the housing market. Lily lived nearby with her husband — my brother, Jord — and their baby, Poppy. Judging from the house prices, I decided Keira must have bought the home during her previous career. Francesca's salary couldn't have solely supported the mortgage on a house located here. If Keira were smart, she would have paid off as much as she could before deciding to change careers. That was all supposition since I had no idea about Keira's background. She could have come from a wealthy family or be renting with a roommate.

  I consulted my notes. Francesca said Keira didn't have a boyfriend or any roommates that she knew of so there was no point in my knocking on the door and attempting to question anyone about her whereabouts. That was a shame because I really needed to know where she was. Following a person got super awkward when I couldn't find them; and I didn't want to waste all afternoon and evening being parked outside. Someone would surely get suspicious and I'd already had my fill of patrol cars that were driven by my family members being sent out to check up on the dubious brunette in the black car.

  Pulling a U-turn in the empty road, I headed back toward the agency where there was one person who could find anyone, anywhere, anytime. Actually, there were a bunch of skilled people employed there who could find anyone, but I was only interested in talking to one of them.

  First, however, I stopped by my desk and hauled my laptop out of the drawer I locked it in. A few days ago, I forgot to put it away and someone had installed a picture of a clown as a screensaver. The picture gave me a nightmare, mostly because I was sure I had the same lipstick as the clown and my subconscious mind cruelly decided to turn me into a clown. I had to buy four new lipsticks before I even felt slightly better.

  Logging in, I ran a background check on Keira Bell. While I waited for the information to appear, I fixed my gaze on the man studiously working at his desk across the room in the shared PI's office.

  Antonio Delgado was one of life's nice guys, disguised in the body of someone you'd have been terrified to meet in a dark alley. He was also one of Solomon's closest friends and soon to be my brother-in-law, after drawing the short straw in life and landing my sister for his fiancée. Not that he thought so. He seemed damn pleased about gaining an instant family in Serena and her baby daughter, Victoria. Serena was divorced, thanks to her suspicion that her awful husband was cheating on her, and having tasked me with the job of proving it. It wasn’t hard to prove, nor particularly satisfying, but I was glad she had a great man like Delgado at her side now.

  "No," he said without turning around.

  "What? I didn't say a thing."

  "You thought something loudly and I figured 'no' was the safest answer." He sat back in his chair and spun around, folding his arms.

  "I was going to ask you about the wedding plans."

  This time, Delgado grinned. "It's going to be beautiful," he said, his eyes lighting up with the joy of being overrun by Serena's insistence on all the decision-making. "We're writing our own vows."

  "Seriously?"

  "Yeah. Wait, am I supposed to tell you that?" He grabbed a notepad from his backpack on the floor and flipped open the cover, sliding a finger down the page. "Damn!" he said.

  I pulled a face. "Did Serena give you a list of wedding plans you're not allowed to discuss with me?"

  "Would you still respect me if I said yes?"

  "No!"

  He flipped the notepad closed. "Then, no, she did not."

  "I don't know if you're messing with me."

  "I am a little bit." He held his thumb and forefinger apart, then frowned and tightened the gap.

  "I will go directly to the source."

  "That would be wisest," agreed Delgado. "How did your appointment with the wedding planner turn out?"

  "Very productive," I said, which was true. Eating cake was very productive. "We are making headway. You can relax and Serena can stop worrying about me stealing her wedding ideas. We even made a decision on the cake."

  "Great. Serena was worried you'd want a round one like us. Damn!" Delgado reached for the notepad again and I pulled a bigger face. "Nope, she picked square. Damn!"

  I held back a giggle at Delgado's accidental reveals and breathed a sigh of relief at the square cake. As I did so, I glanced at my laptop, smiling when I saw that the results of my search had returned. I scanned it quickly, checking that it all tallied against Francesca's information. So far, so good. Her career was exactly as Francesca had said. The college and degree were correct too, along with her birthdate, marital status and address. Next, I ran a check on Keira's finances. If she were planning a coup of Francesca's business, or even launching her own to compete with her boss, I expected I would find some trace of evidence in her finances. She would need some savings to set up a business from scratch, or at least a loan. It would be difficult to sustain her living standards without more income.

  However, when the financial search returned its results, there was no evidence of a loan. Her savings had built up slowly but the amount wasn’t huge. The duplex's mortgage had been paid off four years ago, around the time Keira switched careers. That made sense as to why she could afford the drop in salary. Her living expenses were also reduced significantly but she still managed to maintain a comfortable lifestyle, including a small loan for a car.

  I was impressed that she was mortgage-free by the age of thirty, and puzzled at the lack of any red flags. Francesca mentioned seeing Keira with some information about a store for sale but there was nothing to suggest she bought or even rented a unit. I typed the address into the search engine and a picture of a closed-up shop appeared, along with a link to the listing. Clicking the image took me to a hybrid map. I zoomed out, noting the small unit was nestled between a nationwide bridal gown chain and a bakery.

  If I intended to open up a rival business, I would do it there. The location was perfect, a veritable
one-stop shop for brides, and ideal for any proprietor to build business relationships. I looked at the address again. It wasn't located here, but instead in Chester, one of the neighboring towns, thirty miles south of Montgomery and five miles west of the Army base, Fort Charles. Chester wasn't the most interesting of towns but it was large, affluent, and derived a lot of business from the civilian and Army personnel that staffed the base. I once narrowly avoided being carjacked there, which hadn't left the best impression. For nightlife and shopping, many residents visited Montgomery but I heard a recent revamp of Chester's downtown area had brought in new stores, bars and restaurants. A wedding salon would probably do well there, especially for soldiers in a hurry to get hitched.

  My next step was to head upstairs and ask for help from our resident tech geek. Lucas was a highly intelligent man with a resume that veered into shady areas. His knowledge of databases and tracking software were second to none.

  "What's up?" said Lucas as I dropped into the chair next to him, a few minutes later, rubbing my stomach.

  "I think I have cake indigestion."

  "Is that a real affliction?"

  "I don't know. I ate too much cake, I feel a little sick now, but I still want to eat more."

  "That's not cake indigestion. That's cake commitment."

  I pondered that. I'd never felt so committed to anything in my life. "I agree," I decided.

  "Future career?" inquired Lucas.

  "As a cake taster? Sign me up, then roll me over there."

  "Is this a social visit? Did you bring me any cake?" He rocked from side-to-side, looking for hidden cake boxes.

  "No, sorry."

  "Then tell me what you need from me."

  "Ping a phone so I can find someone?"

  "Shouldn't you wait until after marriage to stalk Solomon?"

  I snorted. "It's not Solomon, though... would you if I asked?"

  "Sure, why not? My life and career are meaningless to me."