Chapter 11
741 Words
Chapter Eleven
After meeting with Abe and Elijah, all I wanted to do was take a nap. My brain hurt and I needed to put it into neutral for a while. Unfortunately, I had Charlie’s project to complete, preferably before he burst a gasket. I always carried photo equipment in the back of my Mini Cooper, so I dropped Leah off at her office and headed over to his condo in Tempe.
I wasn’t sure if his intention for showcasing the condo in the local home decor magazine was to sell it or to show it off—it was always a bit of a toss-up with Charlie—but my guess was the latter. Either way, the deadline for the winter edition was fast approaching, which had him chomping at the bit.
The editor offered to send one of her staff photographers over, but for as much of a braggart as Charlie was, he despised having people touch his stuff. After rebuking the idea of using one of the magazine’s photographers—huffily exclaiming he had one of his own—Charlie promptly texted me and demanded I contact the editor as soon as possible, or else.
I did but found myself apologizing to her for half an hour for Charlie’s rudeness before she agreed to send me the magazine’s specs. I continued to grovel and was granted three days to submit the photos, though I knew the deadline was at least twenty days out. Deciding not to press my luck, I thanked her profusely and hung up, feeling about as well-received as a piece of gum on the bottom of her Jimmy Choos.
Thankfully, I was on the short list of people he considered worthy of granting entry to his condo, though I was convinced his preference was to have me suit up like the forensics team on CSI. Fortunately, he settled for powder- and latex-free gloves and elasticized, non-static booties. Yeah, don’t even get me started. Of course, I was required to leave Nicoh with the doorman, who always had a few extra doggie treats handy.
Sufficiently geared up, I was ready to go in. The condo had an open floor plan—reminiscent of the lofts you might see in Manhattan—and was designed in an ultra-modern industrial style—lots of steel and glass. Charlie furnished it with more steel and glass, using only black, gray and an occasional splash of white to accent the space. It was kind of cool, in a very sterile, antiseptic way. Case in point, his floor was definitely cleaner than any plate in my house.
I was grateful Charlie couldn’t be present while I worked. His personal assistant, Arch, was there in his place to hawk-eye my every move. I actually preferred him to Charlie and found him fairly harmless, though I was pretty sure I spotted him snapping pictures of me with his iPhone. Whatever—I could deal with Arch.
I took several shots on both levels of the condo—the natural lighting was awesome—and was able to capture what I needed within a couple of hours. I packed my gear and shouted goodbye to Arch, though I knew he was lurking somewhere nearby. I collected Nicoh from the doorman, who had been receiving the royal treatment in my absence. Still, he trotted happily to the Mini and jumped into the passenger seat.
As we drove home, I suddenly realized how tired I was. Typically, Leah mused at my Energizer-bunny intensity, but the events of the day had drained me, both physically and emotionally. My mind hadn’t gotten the signal, there was so much to contemplate.
I decided to wait for the package from Abe and Elijah’s assistant, Anna, to begin my part of the research. Instead, I called Ramirez to give him an update, though I knew he wasn’t anticipating one. He must have been expecting another call because he answered on the first ring, but seemed genuinely pleased to hear from me and listened quietly as I filled him in on the meeting with Abe and Elijah.
Only when I finished did he speak, “How are you, AJ?”
“I don’t know. I’ve got a lot to digest and yet, I just want to sleep. Unfortunately, my mind won’t let me.”
“I’m sorry, perhaps I shouldn’t have pushed you?”
“Hey, Victoria died trying to make contact with me. I owe it to her to figure this out, to finish it, whatever it is.”
Ramirez was silent for a moment then quietly said, “I’m here for you, AJ, day or night.”
“Thanks, Detective.”
“Jonah, please call me Jonah.”
“Thanks, Jonah. Have a good night.”
“You’re welcome, AJ. Sleep well.”
I appreciated the sentiment but doubted rest would come anytime soon. And yet, I was out as soon as my head hit the pillow.
- Writer
