Chapter 8

Throughout the next day, Catlyn couldn’t shake the final image of Amelia lying dead out of her mind. Catlyn rarely recalled the readings she did. They weren’t for her, but for her clients. She didn’t need to remember the message the cards and Spirit had for them after she’d shared it. The unusually vivid vision of impending doom bothered her.

Her phone’s ring tone for her boyfriend, Karl, startled her into dropping the jump ring she was attempting to affix to a new necklace for the third time. She hadn’t seen him since all the craziness in her life started. His sales job took him out of town frequently.

“Hi, Sweetie,” Karl said, trying to make his voice sound sexy. She rolled her eyes. “I’m back in town, and I closed that big deal.”

“That’s fabulous, Karl. I know how much it meant to you.”

“It isn’t every day you can negotiate a deal with the great Thomas Drogger.”

A shiver shot up Catlyn’s spine. She didn’t know why the name of the wealthiest businessman in Orange County would cause such a reaction. An image of Amelia popped into her mind, and she recalled Amelia now worked for Mr. Drogger.

“I made reservations at the exclusive La Boucherie in Los Angeles for tomorrow night,” Karl continued. “Be sure to wear something nice and not your usual witchy garb. It isn’t appropriate for such an upscale place. I’ll pick you up at six.”

Tears pricked Catlyn’s eyes at his hurtful tone and comment. He often chided her on the way she dressed, or wore her hair, or the extra weight around her hips. Before she could formulate a response, he hung up.

She fumed, wondering why she still dated him. He hadn’t even asked if the time would work for her. He’d assumed she’d rearrange her schedule if it wasn’t. Their sex was good—well, better than good—but that didn’t build a lasting relationship. She wanted someone she could trust and who treated her with respect.

The kind eyes of Detective McLarkin flashed in front of her. She snorted at her foolishness. She’d only met the guy once, and it was unlikely she’d run into him again. Although she kept hoping he’d show up at the Jupiter Moon.

She went online and Googled the restaurant, whistling when she found it. The swanky French steakhouse appeared to be fabulous. She’d wait to see how this date with Karl turned out before she made any rash decisions about them.

She called her friend Lisa. “Hey Lisa, do you think I can borrow your cute black dress? Karl’s taking me to a ritzy restaurant, and I need a chic dress appropriate for it. You know I don’t own anything like that.”

Lisa laughed. “Yeah, your style is more shabby chic or Gothic goddess. Where is he taking you?”

“La Boucherie.”

“Ooh, I’ve heard about it. It’s about time he took you some place fabulous. Come on over. I have a few dresses that would work.”

Catlyn spent the evening having fun with Lisa, trying on dresses. The designer dresses were way out of Catlyn’s price range. For a moment, she allowed herself to wish she had extra money to buy fabulous clothes—or not worry if she could make her rent.

Her Friday schedule was light, and Catlyn had the afternoon free to get ready for her date. Catlyn pulled the short, lacy black dress she’d borrowed from Lisa over her hips. She tried to tug it down farther, uncomfortable with the short length. She normally wore maxi skirts. Pulling her red-gold hair into an up-do, she let a few strands fall into loose curls around her face. Her two cats, Mittens and Boots, watched her. She crouched down, carefully petting them to keep cat hair off her black dress, especially Mitten’s long gray fur.

Catlyn finished putting on her makeup at the same time Karl knocked on her door. She pulled it open and took in Karl’s expensive dark gray suit with subtle pinstripes. His emerald green silk shirt brought out the green in his hazel eyes.

“Wow!” Karl whistled as he brushed a hand through his short, brown hair. “I didn’t know you could look so fabulous. You should wear miniskirts more often. You have the legs for them.” He pulled her close and kissed her deeply, running his hands over the curve of her butt. “If it hadn’t taken days to get reservations at the restaurant, I’d suggest we stay here.”

His voice was husky, and she felt his desire press against her. Her stomach growled, reminding her she hadn’t eaten since breakfast that morning.

“I’m starving.” She pulled away from him, then picked up the small clutch she’d also borrowed from Lisa rather than carry her oversized purse. The shimmery black shawl she swung over her shoulders was her defiant touch of “witchy” clothes. She enjoyed wearing feminine clothing.

As they drove into LA, their conversation stalled, almost as much as the northbound traffic on the 405. Catlyn wanted to tell Karl about the bizarre things she’d seen, but doubted he’d react well. Especially after his snide comments about her wardrobe choices.

They finally arrived at the hotel that housed the restaurant, and the valet helped Catlyn from the car. Huffing, she hurried to catch up to Karl, who hadn’t waited for her. Her heels clicked on the hotel’s marble floors as they made their way to the elevators that would take them to the 70th floor.

As they walked into the restaurant, the sweeping views of Los Angeles caught her breath. The traffic lights flickered far below them like fairy lights. She hated going into LA, but for this view, she’d make an exception. A spectacular bar, with modern sculpted lights highlighting the top-shelf alcohol, dominated the entryway. Couples sat on plush teal velvet lounge chairs, chatting and sipping on their drinks while they waited for their table. The booths featured tufted velvet backs and leather seats. Soft jazz music played in the background. The whole vibe was modern, elegant, and chic. After seeing the other women in expensive cocktail dresses, Catlyn was grateful she’d borrowed a stylish, designer dress from Lisa.

The maitre d’hotel led them to a small golden table, pulling out a sleek modern chair for Catlyn. Every table had a good view of the LA skyline. A tiny gasp escaped her when she opened the menu. Karl glanced up at her and glared.

“Order whatever you want,” he snapped. “I can afford it. This is a celebration. I’m getting a hefty commission on the deal I closed with Drogger.”

If Karl had closed the sales deal he’d been talking about for weeks, then he did have some extra cash. Sometimes the disparity in their incomes bothered her, and she wondered why he dated someone so far beneath him. Even with her multiple jobs, she barely made her rent, and that was in a seedy part of Anaheim.

Catlyn took a deep breath, opened the menu again, and choked at the $55 price for a pork chop. When Karl ordered the most expensive item on the menu and the costliest bottle of wine, Catlyn narrowed her eyes. He didn’t normally flout his money at her so openly. She decided to enjoy the rare luxury and ordered the filet mignon.

The waiter brought over a tray filled with salts and mustards from around the world. As Catlyn was making her selection, trying to seem worldly, a commotion at the front caught her attention. A man with longish blond hair walked in with a willowy blond on his arm. Catlyn’s mouth dropped open at the sight of Amelia decked out in a gorgeous red gown and diamonds glittering at her throat. No wonder she’d been in a tizzy about her boss’s son if he gave her such an expensive necklace. Two guards walked ahead of the couple, with two more behind them.

They crossed a few feet from Catlyn and Karl’s table, and Catlyn sucked in a breath. The blond guard trailing the man was one of her stalkers. A slimy, evil energy wafted off the group. Catlyn’s heart faltered when Amelia’s date stepped into view. He was the man from the beach. He’d turned up at the shop the other day, and every time she saw him, he gave her the heebie-jeebies.

Catlyn sat back, stunned, when Amelia walked past her and pretended she didn’t know her. She wrinkled her nose at the unfettered lust and greed on Karl’s face as he watched Amelia and her date walk to their table. Rather than being seated at one of the private booths, Amelia and her date sat at a central table where everyone in the restaurant could see them.

“Someday, I’ll be able to dress my date like that,” Karl breathed. “Did you see the watch he’s wearing? I swear it’s an Audemars Piguet. It costs at least $160 thousand. Can you imagine wearing a watch like that? Someday, Catlyn, someday, that will be me.”

Catlyn gaped at Karl. She hadn’t seen such lust and greed in him before. She only wanted to be able to pay her bills and keep the lights on. Her godmother Jade did well in her business and lived in a gated community in Newport Beach right on the beach. But it was nothing like what Karl now gushed about.

Amelia’s date glanced up and saw them staring at him. He gave Catlyn a slow wink and Karl a sly grin. Catlyn’s skin crawled.

The rest of the night, Karl couldn’t stop talking about the rich man and his beautiful date. He seemed oblivious—or didn’t care—that the way he talked made Catlyn feel ugly and unwanted. By the time they returned home, she claimed a headache and turned him away. She wasn’t sure she ever wanted to see him again, let alone sleep with him. Her abused and battered heart ached as she dropped into bed with her cats snuggling next to her.

Sean wove through the heavy northbound 405 traffic, arriving at the InterContinental Hotel, which housed the restaurant with half an hour to set up before Michael’s reservation. He parked his car with a good view of the entrance and balanced the long lens of his camera on the steering wheel. Several luxury cars pulled up to the valet stand while he waited. He whistled appreciatively at a red Lexus RC sports car. A beautiful, curvy woman with auburn hair stepped from the car, uncomfortably tugging down her short skirt.

She turned, and he glimpsed her face. His gut wrenched as he recognized her as the cute woman from the Jupiter Moon coffee shop, Catlyn. He hadn’t even considered she might be dating someone—someone with more money than he made as a police detective. The guy had to make good money to drive the Lexus sports car he did and take his girl to such a ritzy restaurant. Sean’s heart squeezed, doubtful he’d have a chance with her now. He snapped several photos of her, anyway. She was just too beautiful.

The man with her wore an expensive gray suit. Sean’s hackles rose as the guy possessively grabbed Catlyn’s arm and pulled her next to him. “You jerk,” he muttered.

The guy’s long strides made it difficult for Catlyn to keep up in her heels, which from the way she walked, she didn’t wear often. Before they disappeared into the hotel, Sean snapped a photo of them. He wanted to do a background check on the creep.

A little later, a big black limousine eased into the valet station. Sean sat up straighter and readied his camera. He took photos of Michael’s bodyguards as the four big men piled out and waited. Michael exited the car, wearing a black and white tuxedo. He tugged the sleeves over the diamond cuff links Sean could make out even from the distance. Sean snapped several photos.

Michael swaggered to the passenger side and held out his hand. A long, pale leg emerged, followed by a beautiful blond wearing a red gown with diamonds glittering at her throat. Even as he furiously took pictures, Sean appreciated her beauty. She turned her back to him, and his breath caught at her dress’s open back, plunging past her waist. He compared the tall blond with Catlyn, and he’d take Catlyn over the blond any day. She had an earthy warmness about her that drew him to her.

He slapped his cheek. “Focus, man! You can’t let her distract you from your job. You’re here for Michael, not to ogle the pretty psychic.”

He waited several minutes, giving Michael and his entourage time to take the elevators to the restaurant on the 70th floor. He ran into the hotel and jumped into the elevator. As it made its slow way up, Sean leaned against the far wall, away from the glass that showed the lights of LA growing further distant. He took deep breaths to calm his fluttering stomach. Heights always bothered him. The elevator finally opened and spilled him out in the fancy steakhouse’s lobby.

The maitre d’hotel sniffed at his lack of jacket and tie but left him alone when Sean flashed his badge. Sean peered around the man, noticing Michael and his date walking to their table. They passed Catlyn and her date. Catlyn glanced up. Her jaw dropped, and her eyes widened. “Amelia?”

The blond woman glanced at her, but instead of smiling, turned her face away. With her nose in the air, she stalked to the table the server indicated.

The odd exchange set off Sean’s cop radar. Then it hit him. The incident gave him a perfect excuse to talk to Catlyn again. She had information about Michael’s girlfriend. It may be the break Sean needed to catch Michael.

His quarry ordered a bottle of wine. Sean sighed. They’d be here a while.

“Can I see a menu?” he asked the maitre d’.

His nose up in the air, the man gingerly handed it to him. Sean glanced at the menu, gulping at the prices. $55 for a pork chop! That’s insane. Give him an Outback ribeye, or even better, a T-bone tossed on the backyard barbecue, and he’d be in heaven. He gave the menu back to the waiter without ordering any of the outrageously priced food.

Sean found a plush chair that gave him a good view of Michael’s table, and which also conveniently had a large potted plant he could hide behind. He settled in to wait, ignoring his growling stomach as the tantalizing smells wafted from the plates the waiters carried by him.

Finally, the maitre d’ handed him a plate of fries. “If you insist on sulking here, Officer, at least do so quietly.”

Sean bit into a fry, the rich flavor melting in his mouth, unlike anything he’d had before. Then he remembered seeing duck fat fries on the menu. He savored every last delicious morsel of them.

Catlyn and her date stood to leave. She didn’t appear happy. Sean turned so she couldn’t see him. He didn’t want her to think he was stalking her. As they walked to the elevator, Sean heard the guy gushing about Michael’s wealth and his knockout date. He’s a complete jerk! I might have a shot at dating Catlyn, after all. His nose wrinkled as he remembered she was a witness in one of the weird incidents. He’d have to close that case so there wouldn’t be any issues of impropriety.

He yawned, then grimaced when the waiter brought Michael another bottle of wine.

Two hours later, Sean scrambled from his hiding place as Michael and his gang pushed their chairs back. He rushed to his car, slamming the door and turning on the engine in time to follow Michael’s limousine onto the freeway. At 11 o’clock, the Friday night traffic thinned enough that Sean easily kept the car in view. “Oh, shit!” he swore when they took the Long Beach exit and drove to the marina.

Sean slammed his hand on his steering wheel as Michael escorted his date onto his yacht. It pulled away from the dock. “Dammit all to hell! Can’t I catch a break on this case?”

Unable to follow, he turned the camera on to look through the pictures he’d taken. The ones of Catlyn and her date were clear and sharp. But any pictures of Michael or his group were blurred—again. Every time Sean tried to take photos of his suspect, any that had Michael or his goons in them never turned out. The camera worked fine when Michael wasn’t in the shot.

“Damn, damn, damn!” Sean tossed the camera onto the passenger seat. He’d hoped he’d finally get some evidence against Michael.

Calmed down, he flipped through the photos again. All he had to show for his night of loitering was the picture he’d taken of Michael’s date as she exited the car.