"What?" Vincent says, feigning surprise. "How?"
"I can't answer that question while the case is still under investigation."
"Am I being investigated? Is that why you're here?" Vincent asks, standing up quickly, pretending to be shocked and outraged.
"We're trying to piece together a timeline of the last few hours of her life."
"I saw her dancing. Thought she had a certain look. My company is currently casting a movie. I sent her my card, suggested she get in touch with me this week."
"Just what kind of movie is it?"
"A remake of A Day at the Lake."
The policeman grins. "That's when I fell in love with Abby Johnston," he says, causing Vincent to tense up. "Have you seen the trailers for her new movie? H. O. T. When I looked you up on the Internet it said you were searching for the next Abby." He nods at the photo. "You think this girl could have been it?"
Vincent shakes his head. "No, I was thinking of her for a minor role. Something like Bikini Girl #4." Vincent sits back down. "Look, I left the club early that night, not long after leaving my card. Went home. My doorman can vouch for me. I'm going to be very frank with you. My company is spending a lot of money on this movie and for my stockholders' sakes, I can not have my name associated with a murder investigation in any shape or form." He holds out his hands, gesturing to his posh office. "I have an alibi and am happy to take a lie detector test if that would remove my name from this."
The cop gets up and says, "I've already checked with your doorman, and he's already verified your story, but why don't you come downtown with me. We'll do the lie detector test and, if you pass, we won't mention your name."
Once downtown, Vincent recalls his grandmother's poignant words. Fake it 'til you make it. Words he learned to live by when he was trying to fit in at his new high school. For awhile, he wasn't sure he believed he could do it. But lying came as naturally to him as breathing.
During the test, his thoughts were on both Lacy and his grandmother. The two women in his life-one of whom was with him during the test. He could feel her calming presence. And recalling what he once told Lacy didn't hurt either.
A smile breaks out across her face. The smile that will light up the screen. "I suck at poker," she says. "I always smile when I get a good hand. I can usually do a joke straight-faced, but I'll be honest. I'm not that good of a liar."
"The key to lying is to convince yourself it's the truth."
She tilts her head and thinks about that. "So you have to lie to yourself first. That's interesting."
Yes, it is, Lacy. It's also the key to passing a lie detector test.
Cooper texts Keatyn.
Cooper: The police questioned Vincent today. He admitted to giving her a business card. When they asked if he knew she was dead, he acted surprised. He asked if they thought he had anything to do with it. They said they were just trying to piece together a timeline of her last hours alive. He said that he only saw her in the club and had hoped to hear from her this week. He even offered to take a lie detector test because, he said, for business reasons, he didn't want his name to be associated with a murder investigation. He had an alibi and passed the lie detector test.
Me: He once told me that the key to lying is to convince yourself it's the truth.
Cooper: That's also the key to passing a lie detector test.
Vincent is back in his office going through his company's financial reports.
He's been down the last two quarters, and he knows the board will give him shit about it. They seem to forget how rich he's made them. Well, richer. They were all rich to begin with. Which is the problem. All they care about is what he's done for them lately. He knows things will turn around once he gets this movie made and out there. Then they will be begging him to do more remakes after he lines their pockets once again.
He pushes the papers aside, rubbing his eyes and taking a deep breath to calm himself. He knows what's riding on this movie. He knows he's risking it all.
But he knows the reward will be worth it.
"Mr. Sharpe," his assistant says over his intercom. "There's a delivery man here. Says you need to sign for it."
"Send him in," he says as visions of Lacy blowing him a kiss fade away.
When the delivery guy leaves, he studies the envelope he was handed. It's plain white, nondescript, much like the letters he sends to the whore. There is no return address, just a label with what he assumes is a company name-albeit, an odd one. Back At Ya.
He opens the letter and starts reading.
The purpose of the Letter of Intent is to set forth certain non-binding understandings and certain binding commitments . . .
His heart starts racing. He can barely speak. Barely think. This can't be happening.
Keatyn log's into the airplane's Wi-Fi and get a message from her grandpa.
Grandpa: Been digging into the history of this company. Here's an interesting fact. Vincent inherited a decent chunk of money when his mother and stepfather were killed, which he then immediately used to buy out a small production company. Guess which one it was?
Me: I have no idea.
Grandpa: The one that made A Day at the Lake. Remember, when it was first made it was pretty low budget. So in buying it, he automatically had the ability to do a remake. But based on what I've been told by the investors we've bought out, his decision to do the remake came this spring. I'm assuming that coincides with when he met you.
Me: Wow. How many investors do you have deals with?
Grandpa: Four out of the six. Those four were pretty eager to sell. They believe this movie has become an obsession. They were also worried because he's not investing in as many movie futures as he used to. He's well-known in the industry for being golden in selecting them.
Me: When will he find out that his investors have sold?
Grandpa: He found out today when we delivered a letter of intent to take control of his company. I wish I could've been a fly on the wall for that.
Me: Me too. Thanks, Grandpa. I love you.
Me: And Grandma. Please tell her I love her. Like, in case something should ever happen to me. You know?
Grandpa: If something happens to you, I'm killing the bastard myself. You have my promise. He won't get the luxury of jail time. But I'm definitely glad you're hidden away at school while this is all taking place. He's going to be madder than a wet hen.
Me: A wet hen?
Grandpa: If you'd ever seen one, you wouldn't have to ask.
Me: Believe it or not, that makes me feel better. At least I won't worry about him getting out of jail someday and hurting my sisters.
Grandpa: Exactly. And I love you too, Hotshot.
Grandpa: Wait. Sam just messaged me and said he met you in California today.
Me: Yeah.
Grandpa: Says it was confidential.
Me: Yeah.
Grandpa: Damian called me yesterday.
Me: That's nice of him.
Grandpa: Are you going back to the club tonight? After that girl was killed?
Me: Yes.
Grandpa: There's a reason you wear camouflage when you're hunting, Keatyn.
Me: I'll be wearing it tonight. And I'll be in a duck blind.
Sorta.
Grandpa: I don't want to end up owning some stupid movie company because you went out and got yourself killed. You understand me?
Me: Yes, sir.
Grandpa: I admire your courage, Hotshot. Text me when it's over and you're safe. I'll stay up.
Me: Grandpa, thanks for understanding that I have to do this.
Grandpa: We're cut from the same cloth. And don't worry, I WILL NOT be mentioning this to your grandmother.
Me: Thank goodness.
Cooper meets me at my plane and introduces me to two of his friends. Both are cops who will be joining us tonight. They'll be following Vincent when they're off duty to make sure nothing like what happened to the girl from the club happens again.
Before we go into the club, I tell Cooper, "If something goes wrong-like if he takes me-promise me you'll come and get me."
"I'm going to do more than promise." He points out my locket to his friends. "Tracking device number one." Then he clamps a surprisingly stylish thick bangle bracelet around my wrist and says, "Tracking device number two. It operates in a different way, but if he scans you, he will find that and your locket easily."
"Do you think he would?"
"Hard to say, but we want to be prepared. And this little beauty," he says, holding up what looks like a little blister pad, "is the best one. Top dollar, espionage kind of stuff. Bend at the waist and flip your hair over."
I follow his instructions and feel him stick it right by my hairline.
"Okay, flip back over. Guys, did you bring the scanner?"
One of the guys nods and hands him a small scanner. He runs it across me and quickly finds both my necklace and bracelet, but when he runs it across my shoulders it doesn't go off. The guys all nod.
We get to the club and meet up with the staff. They all know that we're planning to have a memorial for Leighton tonight.
"We just want to give a big Fuck you to whoever did this to her," Marla, the woman in charge of the dancers, says. "Also, ladies, do not go out with anyone you meet here. Even if they are a VIP. Not until her killer is caught."
The girls all nod. Some are crying.
Marla speaks to the doormen. "Every person who walks through the door tonight will get stamped with the chaos symbol. For those of you who don't know, Leighton was wearing a temporary tattoo on her hip and it was one of the few places she wasn't stabbed. I think you all know my pet name for this place is Utter Chaos, even though I can't get the boss man to give it an official name. So, we're going to celebrate that. Now, let's have a silent moment for Leighton."
Everyone lowers their heads for a few moments.
Then Marla claps her hands and says, "All right, everyone to work."
Once I'm dressed and ready, I talk to Troy, who won't go in the DJ booth tonight until the program starts.
"This is going to be like New Year's Eve on steroids."
"I hope so."
"You look very hot."
I'm wearing a neon pink push-up bra, which is peeking out from my teeny black dance top. And, with it, an ass-skimmingly short flirty black skirt. "All the girls are dressed this way."
"I sure hope he shows up."
"Me too. Although, if he does, he's going to be pissed. He was notified today that four of his six investors have been bought out and that he's probably going to lose control of his company."
"That your doing, too?"
I smile. "Shhh."
"Keats, do you ever do anything small?"
"Not anymore. Wait until you see the ending."
"Ending?"
"Well, the big finale, so to speak. Provided all goes as planned."
"That's the part I'm worried about. What if it doesn't go as planned?"
I pat him on the back. "Do me a favor and think positive. Also, I have a big favor to ask you."
"Another one?" Troy laughs.
"Yeah. Do you know someone who either works for a delivery service or would be willing to pretend to?"
"One of the valets does."
I get a package out of my bag. It's addressed to Vincent Sharpe at his office. "Do you think he could deliver this tomorrow? At, say, four?"
"Sure. What's in it?"
"Just a photo."
Vincent is on his way to the club. He spent the entire rest of the day on the phone with his investors. The good news is, he has a chance of fighting off the hostile takeover attempt. The bad news is he can't figure out who in the world is behind it. His gut tells him it's the whore, but he has no proof-not to mention the fact that it doesn't make any sense. He knows what she earns. Even with good investments, she couldn't have pulled this together. It's something else.
"Hondo," he says, greeting the mafia boss he just called. "I could use your help again."
"Tell me what you need."