“Right after you and your mother left the showroom, she started acting weird,” he began to explain before I’d even asked. “She seemed really nervous and said she had somewhere to go. When I asked where, she just kissed me hard and said that it was time to play the big money card. After that, we’d be set for life.”
“Set for life, huh?”
I got a big knot in my belly, sure now that Terra had known who Olivia’s lover was all along. But instead of telling the police, she was going to get herself killed trying to scam a boatload of money from good ol’ Lester Dickens. And I’d thought she was smart.
Hmph.
“You should call the cops,” I told Draco, wondering what he thought I was going to do about it. “You need to talk to them anyway.”
“I did call them!” he said. “They won’t lift a finger, not until she’s been gone at least forty-eight hours. She gave me your number before she took off and said if anything went wrong I should call you.”
Why? Did Terra think I could do something the police couldn’t?
“Have you tried her cell?”
“I’ve called and texted at least a dozen times in the last four hours. All the calls go straight to voice mail. My texts don’t get answered.”
“Did you mention to the cops that she was Olivia La Belle’s assistant?” I asked, getting up from the chair while Mother and Stephen looked on with concern. “Have they forgotten what happened to Olivia?”
“They think I’m overreacting.” He snorted. “They said she probably went shopping or out for a drink with some girlfriends, but she didn’t. Terra hated shopping for herself, and she didn’t have any real girlfriends here. She just had me.”
Considering how she’d treated me and Mother and her penchant for fashion circa 1980, I was convinced.
“Have you checked with Uncle Jasper?” I asked dryly.
“He hasn’t seen or heard from her either, and he’s worried, too. She borrowed his car again, and it doesn’t have OnStar.” Draco paused, and I could hear him breathing heavily. I hoped he had a paper bag handy in case he started to hyperventilate. “I think she’s in serious trouble, Andrea. I think she’s meeting with Olivia’s boyfriend.”
“What’s his name, Draco?” I asked, tired of being jerked around, though I was pretty sure I knew who it was already.
“I don’t know any more than what I already told you. I heard Olivia call him Frog, and Terra did, too. I figure she had something of Olivia’s the police didn’t find, something that incriminates the guy.”
“Ya think so?” I replied, unable to keep the sarcasm from my voice. “Was she the one who stole Olivia’s laptop and phone?” I asked. “Did she have them this whole time?”
“No, she would have told me,” Draco insisted. “She even turned her office laptop over to the police. She’s only had her old laptop these past few days. It was one she didn’t use for business.”
Ah, yes, Terra’s spare laptop, I thought, wanting to tear out my hair.
It’s my insurance policy, she’d told me, and I’d figured at the time she just meant it was her backup in case the office laptop crashed. I suddenly remembered where I’d seen that photo of the bone frog tattoo: in a file on Terra’s computer labeled “Big Money Shot.”
I had a feeling that butt wasn’t Draco’s.
“You don’t have a frog tattooed on your ass, do you?” I asked, only to get a befuddled, “What?” in response.
“Oh, man, that’s it,” I moaned as the light went on in my brain, and, like Eliza Doolittle, I think I finally got it. Senator Ryan had been in the Navy. I’d wager it was his butt with the tat and the brown mole in the photograph. I was pretty sure that a forensics expert could compare the photo and the actual ass to confirm it.
Was that the evidence Terra had? Or was there more to it? Maybe she had emails or texts or sexts. Who knew? Technology was making it too damned easy to keep anything private anymore, and she’d worked closely with Olivia for months.
No wonder Terra had been so silent when I grilled her and Draco about Olivia’s lover. It wasn’t because she didn’t know who he was. She just hadn’t wanted to share. She’d been gearing up for a big blackmail attempt.
“Did she take that spare laptop with her?” I asked Draco.
He paused. “Yeah, I saw her carry it out. It’s hard to miss with that stupid pink sticker.”
“If you know where she went, you’d better tell me now,” I demanded, and my face got hot. “Olivia’s killer doesn’t care about Terra. He’d just as soon get rid of her, too.”
“She said the meeting was at Alva’s, but I don’t know who that is, I swear.” He paused to sob then got ahold of himself. “I guess we’d both been keeping secrets.”
“Yeah, you’ve got a great marriage there, Melvin,” I murmured.
“Please, don’t let anything happen to her. Can’t you call your lawyer boyfriend?” he asked. “Can’t you get him to do something if the police won’t? Can’t they ping her phone or the laptop and find her like they do on TV?”
“Does she have tracking software on the computer?”
“Does she need it?”
“Yeah,” I said through gritted teeth. “And if her phone’s turned off, it wouldn’t do any good to try to track it.” She wasn’t answering his calls or texts. So that was probably the case.
“You have to do something,” Draco whined. “Nothing I have means anything without Terra, and I can’t go anywhere. I don’t even have a car.”
Oh, boy.
What was I supposed to do? Call Brian and tell him that Terra Smith had been gone a few hours and that her husband—aka Olivia’s phony-baloney live-in lover—was afraid she was blackmailing Olivia’s potentially homicidal baby-daddy?
That would go over big, I was sure.
Brian and Allie had all but rolled their eyes earlier when I suggested Olivia was in bed with the oil tycoon and the senator.
So who did that leave? I mused, and my gaze settled across the coffee table on Stephen and Cissy.
“Please, Andrea,” Draco begged. “If anything happens to her—”
Yeah, yeah. I’d heard that part already.
He started to cry for real, and my chest clenched.
“Okay, okay,” I said, giving in.
Mother must have been right about my getting involved in other people’s problems being a compulsion. Or else I just couldn’t stand to hear a grown man sob.
“I’ll see what I can do,” I told Draco. “In the meantime, call me if you hear from her.”
I hung up and met the stares of my mother and Stephen.
“Hey,” I said, tucking my cell back in my purse, “are you two doing anything special tonight? If not, could you possibly go on a rescue mission with me?”
“Oh, Andrea, no,” Cissy drawled, and started shaking her head. “Stephen just got back. I was thinking I’d order in dinner and we could relax.”
“We can order dinner later,” my future stepfather said, and he rubbed his hands together. “Who needs saving this time? At least I know it’s not Malone or your mother.”
Hmm, I thought. It might not be bad having a stepdad who was a former Navy SEAL and ex-IRS.
“It’s Terra Smith,” I told him. “She was Olivia La Belle’s assistant.”
“But she’s the one who locked us in the dressing room,” Cissy declared with a frown. “I don’t know if I like her well enough to save her.”
“Mother,” I said in my best shame-on-you voice. “She left Draco to meet with someone, and she’s been gone for four hours. I just need you to make one little phone call.”
“To whom?” she asked, eyeing me suspiciously.
I drew in a deep breath then let it out again.
“Lester Dickens,” I said. Draco was mistaken. Terra hadn’t gone to Alva’s to meet someone. She’d gone to the house on Alva Court.
“He told you to call if you wanted a private showing of his Preston Hollow mansion, right?” I said, putting the pressure on. “And now’s as good a time as any.”
Mother waved her hand dismissively. “No, no, no, I’m not going over to Lester’s house alone. You think he had a hand in Olivia’s death. Why would I put myself in danger?”
“I’ll go with you,” I said, “and Stephen can come along, too. I’ll make sure Lester keeps his hand off your butt.”
“Andrea,” my mother scolded.
“Keeps his hands off your what?” Stephen asked none too happily.
“It was years ago at a party,” Cissy said, unfurling her legs from beneath her. “He’d had too much to drink, and he acted like a clod.”
“I’ll clod him,” her beau grumbled, rising to his feet.
Mother blushed.
“Do you still have Fredrik’s cap?” I asked, figuring Stephen could play chauffeur, wait outside, and call the police if things got dicey. “Is the Bentley gassed up?”
“Yes and yes,” Cissy said, scrambling up from the sofa.
“Will you do it?” I asked. I had a sinking feeling in my chest. “We have to get there before he does anything to Terra, even if we just distract him long enough for Stephen to convince the cops to come. If we don’t, she’s as good as dead.”