“I’ll do the talking,” Louise said as they walked into the lobby of the Arrival building.
Holly didn’t get a chance to reply as Louise marched towards the security officer and greeted him. She blatantly flirted, her voice going up an octave as she greeted him and giggled. Holly wanted to throw up, but she also knew she’d do anything to get the information they sought.
Instead she hung back, not wanting to cramp Louise’s style. She looked around the lobby, thinking about Victoria coming and going through it over the years, working alongside people who were stealing from the business, probably trusting them implicitly. It weighed heavily on her that someone would take advantage of Victoria like that.
Suddenly, Louise grabbed her arm and started to drag her outside.
“Okay, she left hours ago with Steven Goodfellow,” Louise explained the moment they were on the sidewalk. She got her phone and quickly scrolled through her contacts. “I’ll call his secretary.”
Holly nodded and got her own phone. “I’ll ask Jazz to trace his phone.”
They both put their phones to their ears and took a few steps away from each other. Jazz answered quickly and set about trying to trace Steven’s phone; it didn’t take long to discover that it was switched off and couldn’t be traced.
“I’m sorry,” Jazz apologised.
“It’s okay.” Holly pinched the bridge of her nose. She hadn’t thought it would be that easy.
“If it’s any consolation, I’m rebuilding your hard drive. Whoever deleted it was amateur hour. Some of these documents were created the week you were in Paris.”
Holly’s heart skipped a beat. Any extra pieces of the puzzle that was that time in her life were going to be gratefully received.
“That’s great. Thanks, Jazz.”
“I’ll call you back when I know more,” Jazz said before hanging up.
At the same time, Louise hung up her call and approached Holly. “Greta says that Steven is very chummy with Phoebe Wheeler,” Louise explained, an eyebrow raised. “They have been close for a long time.”
“Damn,” Holly muttered. “Victoria did speak to her and thought she was acting a little suspiciously.”
“If you trusted me from the start, I could have told you what a snake that woman was,” Louise pointed out.
“I found it a little hard to trust you, considering our history,” Holly admitted. “And the fact that you hero-worship Victoria like some teenage fangirl.”
Holly didn’t have the strength to hold back anymore. If Louise was going to complain about her presence on the suspect list, Holly was going to return fire with all the reasons why she belonged on there.
“Hero worship?” Louise laughed heartily. “She’s my boss, and she’s one of the most impressive minds in the fashion industry. You might not care about the business, but I do. I’ll spend every second I can soaking up knowledge from someone like Victoria. If that’s hero worship, then fine!”
“Fine, but you always hated me. Don’t deny it!” Holly argued.
“Of course I hated you! You suddenly appeared and upset the delicate balance in the office. Victoria had always relied on me, and then you turned up and I was pushed to one side. You had access to the shoots, the final copy, the layouts, the art department. I was answering the damn phones!”
Realisation dawned on Holly like a light being turned on. Louise wasn’t obsessed with Victoria at all; she was obsessed with fashion. She’d always assumed that Louise crushed on Victoria in the same way she had, that they were both vying for her attention. Holly had pushed Louise to one side in her efforts to get closer to Victoria, which had meant that Louise had ended up spending less and less time doing the jobs she liked the most. But that wasn’t at all the case. Louise was fascinated by the work but Holly’s own crush on Victoria had relegated Louise to the most basic of administrative tasks.
“Louise, I’m so sorry,” she said. “I… I was taking my own feelings for Victoria and projecting them onto how you felt about her.”
Louise looked up to the sky. “At last, she gets it.” She lowered her gaze back to meet Holly’s. “Just because you are head over heels for Victoria doesn’t mean we all are. I get that you hate me, but at least I didn’t stay at a job I hated just to try to get noticed by my boss.”
“You’re right,” Holly agreed. “At first I needed the job, but I ended up staying because I fell in love with Victoria. That wasn’t fair to you and your career. I’m sorry. Really. And for the record, I don’t hate you.”
Louise looked unconvinced but slightly less angry than she’d been a moment ago. “Well, now that we’ve sorted that out, should we try to find out where Phoebe Wheeler is?”
Holly shook the cobwebs away and rang Jazz again.
“Shoot, Carter,” they answered quickly.
“I need you to see if you can trace a Phoebe Wheeler. She’s a photographer at Arrival.”
“Sure, hold on.”
Holly heard the sound of Jazz typing.
“I never trusted Phoebe,” Louise claimed.
“Her phone’s turned off, too,” Jazz said.
“Dammit,” Holly muttered. “Her phone is off.”
“How about her private number?” Louise asked. She accessed her phone and brought the number up. Holly read the digits to Jazz and listened for the sound of more typing.
“Got it,” Jazz said. “It’s an address in Brooklyn.”
“Does she live in Brooklyn?” Holly asked Louise.
“Please. She wishes,” Louise sneered.
“Send me the address, Jazz. We’ll check it out.”
Louise held up her hand and walked towards the kerb to hail a taxi. For the first time all evening, Holly felt like they had a real lead.