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Sexy Girls
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sexy GIRLS
a stevie garrett beautiful girls mystery
book two
GARY S. GRIFFIN
2010
ireadiwrite Publishing Edition
Copyright © 2010 Gary S. Griffin
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This ireadiwrite Publishing edition is published by arrangement with Gary S. Griffin, contact at [email protected]
ireadiwrite Publishing - www.ireadiwrite.com
Second electronic edition published by ireadiwrite Publishing
Sexy Girls
ISBN 978-1-926760-44-5
Published in Canada with international distribution.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover Design: Michelle Halket
Cover Photograph: Copyright and courtesy of CanStock Photo
This novel is dedicated to my children and stepchildren,
all seven of them.
You are the joys in my life and keep me young at heart.
You’re amazing teachers, performers and students.
Keep up the good work!
Break a leg!
Author’s Note
This was the first novel I ever wrote. I did it because I was challenged to do something artistic. Completing it achieved a life goal. I began writing Sexy Girls in 2004 and finished the original manuscript a year later. That draft was over 500 pages long. Wise editors advised me to remove two side stories, to focus the book on the main plot. I did. The resulting, shorter novel became the mystery I self-published in December 2005.
One of the sections removed from Sexy Girls was an earlier story, set in California. In 2008, I picked up this novella and developed the story further. It grew book-length and became Modern Girls, Stevie Garrett’s first murder investigation.
As I wrote Modern Girls it became clear that a larger tale needed to be told, a story that connected Modern Girls to Sexy Girls. But, even those two books would not be enough. Another mystery would be necessary to complete the story. I’m currently writing the concluding novel, Artful Girls.
While I outlined this set of three stories, contradictions appeared between the first two mysteries. Those plot and character issues were within Sexy Girls. As such, it was necessary to update the second part of the trilogy. That revision is the book you are holding. Here is the 2010 edition of Sexy Girls…
(By the way, the other extracted story from the original Sexy Girls, a subsequent adventure, will be Stevie Garrett’s fourth mystery.)
prologue
Denver International Airport, Terminal B, United Airlines Red Carpet Club, June 1, 2004
Once I had my ticket, I headed straight to the bar for a vodka tonic. I knew it was before noon, but in my mind I was already on east coast time. Jesus, what an unbelievable turn of events! Andi Grayson was dead! Who would murder such a gorgeous lady? Andi lived in sunlight and colors. She died in a dark, ugly place; stuffed in her car's trunk, parked on a Philadelphia side street.
Tell me this is a nightmare.
I got the tonic and vodka and drank half in one gulp. I tried to remember why I hadn’t beaten a path to Andi’s door years ago. I knew that Andi sought me, and wanted to be with me, again, someday. I admit it crossed my mind too, every time I saw her over the last twelve years. It’s so strange. It happened only once during a crazy adventure. Marriage, relationships, distances stopped us. I had an incredible amount of passion for her. Andi fascinated me and others with her intense focus. Her friends were the center of her world.
It nearly happened again in the days that followed last October, after I saw Cyndie Myst and Andi in the Bleu Restaurant on Rittenhouse Square. They were playing their S&M games and I pretended not to notice. I did notice Andi in her slip of a dress and her beautiful firm breasts. Andi moved with quiet grace through the crowded dining room. God, what a wonderfully proportioned body! She had those long legs and a slim waist, with that sexy roundness in her hips, chest and behind. I wanted to touch her lovely long blonde hair and kiss her luscious lips and look into those revealing violet blue eyes.
Dee Dee and I were dining and still dating and I couldn’t act on my desires that night. But, Andi’s kiss and the way she felt made me hot for her for weeks. We almost connected. Early on, we planned a special night together. It would be after she filed for divorce from Robert in late February. The hunger, the out-of-reach feel, I always had with Andi, her vulnerability, and her own divorce plans getting screwed up by Robert screwing her, only increased our palpable sexual tension.
Irresistible! That is the word that describes the feelings we had for each other.
I ordered my second round. As the bartender mixed, the reality struck me; Andi’s black journal. I was the person she still yearned for and wanted so much it hurt her in every part of her soul and body.
Now, it would never happen. Andi was gone and we were never to be.
Who killed her? I had to find out. I owed it to Andi. I sat and stared at the TV, at the tarmac, at the girls walking by, not remembering any of it, and finished my vodka tonic. Why did I come to Colorado? Why did Andi come here, before me? I prayed for answers.
part one
missing
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, 16th & Chestnut Streets, Two Liberty Place, 44th Floor, Four days earlier
“Stevie, you have a visitor.”
“Who is it?”
“A Miss Myst is here, she says she’s your friend,” answered Lauren, my new administrative assistant, with a weird emphasis on the word friend.
I thought, “She's a lot more than that to me,” but I answered only, “Send her in.”
I got up from my desk and walked to my opened door. Cyndie Myst was already four steps ahead of Lauren, striding toward my office. As the two beautiful women approached, they presented an incredible eyeful, from head to toe. They also provided a remarkable contrast in styles; a South Philly blonde with a friendly, casual personality, and my intense, raven-haired, black-clad, best friend. Lauren looked lovely in a bright, colorful summer dress with white spiked-heels. Cyndie looked conservative, almost, in a stylish black pants suit. The magenta-red streak dyed into the front of her black hair, the black pointy-toed stiletto-heeled boots, and a long silver necklace with a large crucifix revealed part of the real Cyndie.
Lauren caught up and said, “I’m sorry, Stevie, I told her I would show her in.”
Cyndie frowned, turned toward Lauren and hissed, “I know the way, sister.”
Lauren was about to explode, but I put my hand up, and said, “It’s okay, Lauren, thank you.”
Lauren took a step back, wrinkled her nose at me, stuck out her tongue at Cyndie and walked away in a huff; Cyndie didn't notice that.
It never fails with Cyndie Myst. She comes on like a storm. I hooked Cyndie's arm and pulled her toward my office.
On the way, Cyndie asked, “Who’s the new bimbo?”
“That’s Lauren Nicci, and she is a very competent admin assistant.”
“So, who's squeezing her, you or Jimmie?”
“Very funny.”
I shut the door and said, “Hey, Cyn, are you giving up the Goth look?”
“You wish. No, I had a meeting with a client.”
“Babe, you look great.”
Cyn answered, “Shut up, you jerk.”
That was our special greeting. I gave her a hug and kiss. Cyndie felt great in my arms;
her warmth radiated down my body.
After five seconds, she broke our embrace and said, “Stevie, we need to talk.” Direct, as usual. At least she was consistent.
“How do you know I’m not busy?”
“If you were, I’m sure little Miss Sunshine out there would have given me some excuse about you not being available. Then, I would have snuck in anyway,” Cyn answered.
That’s my friend, Cyndie. I shook my head, but I also realized she was serious. She needed to speak to me.
I said, “Have a seat, Cyn. Can I get you something; coffee, tea, water?”
“Hot tea would fine.”
“I'll be right back.”
I walked to the reception area, trying to act repentant.
“Who it that?” asked Lauren. “She’s so creepy.”
“She’s a very good friend of mine, Lauren. Cyndie just comes on strong. She's really sweet on the inside.”
Lauren smiled and looked astonished. “You’ve got to be kidding! What do you want, coffee for the lovely lady?”
I answered by putting a five-dollar bill on the counter. “No, hot tea and I'll take a coffee with half-and-half.”
Lauren flipped her blond hair over her shoulder and said, “This is going to cost you Stevie.”
Back in my office, I said, “My dear, Ms. Myst, what brings you to our blue tower in the sky?”
Cyndie had unbuttoned her suit jacket revealing a tight black corset and a healthy amount of her cleavage. She reached across her body and closed my office door with her right hand. She crossed her legs, looked up and waited for my eyes to stop focusing on her upper thighs and start making eye contact with her. Normally, that would bring out a sharp comment; not today.
“Andi is missing, Stevie.”
Andi is Andi Grayson, our mutual friend. My two model friends are very different. But, I guess opposites attract. Look at me and Cyn. While Cyn pursued the Goth look, a real niche market, Andi was mainstream runway and fashion. Cyn succeeded as a model but struggled with money, before she morphed into a different role in the industry; finding and designing remote photo shoots. Cyn is terrific at that, and got a good job doing it at the Grayson Agency. On the other hand, Andi is a blonde about-to-be-retired supermodel, living a jet-set lifestyle, working at the agency too, and married to the Grayson Modeling Agency's owner.
I asked, “What do you mean, missing?”
“I haven't seen her since last Friday.”
“What? That's seven days ago.”
When she spoke again, it was at a lower volume and Cyndie spoke into her lap. “I know, Stevie, I didn't know what to do. She, I, we… Please help us.”
That's when I noticed the first tear. Of course, Cyndie presented a strong, tough image to the world, but I knew she worked hard to control her emotions, at all times. She was on the verge of breaking down.
“Let's start at the beginning. Tell me what happened.”
“I don't now where to start.”
“Where did you see her last?”
“A week ago Thursday, at the apartment?”
“What apartment?”
“Her apartment, she's living in the penthouse above the agency.”
I stopped Cyndie, “Okay, wait a minute, I'm confused. She's living at the penthouse? What about the Grayson's big home in Delaware?”
She hesitated. I knew that Andi's marriage was rocky and that her husband, Robert, cheated on her. I also knew that Robert filed for divorce, a few months ago. Andi told me. It affected Andi, badly, but I kept silent about that. I told my first white lie in the form of a question, “Did Andi and Robert finally separate?”
“Yes, no, I mean, he's divorcing her. That's part of the story.”
It was my turn to hesitate. “Okay, well…” I thought of what to say - too long for Cyndie. She broke down.
As her crying became stronger, she forced out between gasps, “Stevie, Robert is screwing Andi, in their divorce, for something she did, something she did with me. Robert fired Andi. She has no money. All the money she’s making, she’s giving to her lawyer. Since they separated, Andi has lived in the penthouse, until her divorce is final, and she gets a new, real job.”
These details were all news to me. I held my tongue for a moment, letting her emotional storm pass. “Where is she working now?”
“At the bookstore on Rittenhouse Square, next to the agency.”
“Are you still working at the modeling agency?”
“Yes, Robert didn't fire me; only her.”
“So why is Andi missing?”
“I'm not sure. It might be because she was trying to figure out what happened.”
I was getting more lost by the second. “What was Andi trying to do?”
“I don’t know exactly. This is all screwed up.”
I didn't like her hesitations. The true, full story remained to be told. But, I had time this Friday morning. I would wait Cyndie out.
She began again. “Stevie, Andi is being blackmailed...”
A loud kick on my door interrupted Cyndie's statement.
“Come in,” I said.
The door lurched open. Lauren frowned at me as I didn’t move and she wrestled the door open with the two hot drinks in her hands. Then, I got up and took both cups. I could see spilt tea and coffee on Lauren's fingers. I handed the tea to Cyndie, who thanked me, not Lauren. Cyndie returned to her thoughts and wiped her eyes. As I thanked Lauren, she turned, stomped her right heel on my right foot, marched out of the room and shut the door louder than she needed to. I suppressed a scream, but my eyes watered. I limped back to my desk and hid my foot underneath.
I followed up on the last thing Cyndie said, “Why was Andi blackmailed?”
“Andi and I were filmed in public.” Her voice was barely audible.
“Filmed doing what?”
“Making love.”
“With Andi?”
That came out weird; but I was surprised. I knew Cyndie was bisexual, but I never suspected Andi was too.
I startled Cyndie. “Yes, Stevie, with Andi.”
I refocused. “So, where did it happen?”
She paused and began again. “Stevie, here's the simple truth. Andi and I had sex together at the Kimmel Center. It was filmed and someone blackmailed Andi's husband, Robert Grayson. They made a tape and sent it to Robert. The blackmailers demanded a million dollars or they would make the tape public and embarrass all of us. Robert paid the blackmailers to keep it quiet, but then fired Andi from her job and filed for divorce.”
I asked, “When did this happen?”
“On Valentine's Day. We couldn't believe it. Andi was about to file for divorce from Robert and we went out partying. Once she divorced Robert, Andi would receive one and a half million dollars from her prenuptial agreement. But since she was caught cheating, Robert doesn’t need to pay her anything. This whole thing ruined her plans, her life. She was so embarrassed.”
I knew about the prenup and Andi's divorce plans. Andi and I had some plans too, which Andi abruptly cancelled. This explained Andi's recent behavior.
I asked, “Why did you have sex in a public place like that?”
“Stevie, that's a long story.”
I answered, “Give me the short version.”
“We went to hear the orchestra as Robert was out-of-town. We used the agency's suite in the Kimmel Center. We arrived early and had some champagne and hors d'oeuvres. One thing led to another. We turned each other on and had sex before the show. The next week, Robert received a package in the mail with photos and a video tape of us in the act. He went ballistic, threw Andi out of his mansion and filed for divorce.”
I continued, “Who do you think blackmailed Andi?”
“I don't know.”
“Do you think it was someone she knew?”
That stopped Cyndie. Clearly, she hadn't thought about that. “I don’t know, I don't think so. It was a criminal. Oh, I don't know.”
“Do you know if Robert Grayson really paid
the $1 million ransom?”
Cyndie answered, “I think so. Andi said he did.”
“How did he pay the money?”
“I don’t know.”
“How did Grayson receive the original tape from the blackmailer?”
“Andi told me it came in an overnight package.”
I thought a second and then asked her, “Where are the photos and the video tape?”
“We have them, I mean, Andi does. She has a copy.”
“Where are they?”
“At my apartment, in an envelope in my third bedroom's closet.”
“Why are they there?”
“Andi didn't trust Robert or any one else at the agency any more. She wanted to be safe.”
“I’d like to watch the video and look at the photos.”
She hesitated. “Ah… Sure, that’d be okay, I guess.”
I spoke up. “Look, Cyndie, if I’m going to find Andi I need to look at every clue, and the tape and photos are clues. It may tell me something.” Although, I know what crossed her mind, and, yes, I also wondered about the action on the tape.
“What's the status of her divorce?” I asked.
“It's still pending. Her attorney has told her that things do not look good and Andi should expect to receive a very small settlement from the divorce due to her bad behavior, or, as her attorney calls it, her marital misconduct. The trial is scheduled for October.”
Cyn continued, “As part of his interim ruling the judge ordered a sheriff to escort Andi to her former home and gave her only one hour to pack and remove her clothes. He awarded Andi only the second car that the Grayson’s owned. I checked her spot in the agency's section of the parking garage and the car is missing too.”
“Give me the make and model.”
“It’s a silver 1998 Honda Accord. I have the license number at home.”
“Are any of Andi’s things missing?”