“Excuse me.”
Kat eyed the fidgety brunette in front of her. “Yes?”
“Do you mind letting me through? I need the bathroom.”
“Sorry, but the bathrooms this way are closed.” Kat pointed across the room. “You’ll have to use the ones in the hotel lobby.”
The woman frowned. “Those are pretty far away, and my heels are killing me.”
Kat stood her ground. “Sorry.”
Kat’s heart skipped a beat when the brunette tried to peer over her shoulder. Although John Sykes’s body wasn’t visible from here, she couldn’t be too careful. It would be pure chaos if anyone figured out that John was dead before the police arrived.
Luckily, the brunette must have decided that making a run for it wouldn’t be easy in her five-inch stilettos. With a tiny shrug, she rotated around and began hobbling away.
Kat relaxed a little, but her relief was short-lived. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep turning people away. It seemed as though everyone’s bladder had filled at once, and she prayed Andrew would show up soon to secure the scene.
Sundae meowed from inside his cage. Hearing his distress call, one of the Burmese cats joined in with his own cries.
Kat peered at the felines. “You know, you guys could help me out by turning up the cuteness factor whenever you see someone headed in this direction. Then maybe they’ll forget about the restrooms, and you’ll find a forever home in the deal.”
The cats stared at her as if she’d just requested they be the ones to perform John’s autopsy.
Imogene scurried over. “Any word on when the police will be getting here?”
“Andrew said he was five minutes away when I talked to him,” Kat told her.
Imogene frowned at her watch. “That was ten minutes ago.”
“I know.” Kat tapped her foot on the floor. She was getting impatient, too.
“We’re supposed to start announcing the auction winners in five minutes,” Imogene said, eyeing the crowd as though she expected them to become an unruly mob at any hint of a delay.
“I could call Andrew again and ask what the holdup is.”
“No, don’t do that. I’m sure he’ll get here as quickly as he can.” Imogene’s gaze darted toward the corridor. “Is Willow still guarding John?”
“Yes.” At least Kat hadn’t been stuck with that particular duty. As much as she disliked redirecting the masses, keeping people out of the corridor was a much more agreeable task than standing outside the bathroom knowing a dead man lay sprawled on the other side of the door. Just the thought made her shudder.
Imogene must have noticed her reaction. She patted Kat’s hand and offered her a sympathetic smile. “You’re doing great. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I better get back to circulating like nothing’s wrong.” She plastered on a happy face and intercepted a squirming redhead whose bladder looked on the verge of bursting.
Staring at the woman’s copper-colored tresses, Kat found herself transported back to the scene that had greeted her in the restroom. While on the phone with the police, she had made the mistake of loosening John’s scarf to check his neck for a pulse. The skin at his throat had been as red as the retreating woman’s hair, and the sight had almost caused her to drop her phone.
The marks had convinced her that someone had deliberately choked the man using his own scarf.
She rubbed her palms up and down her arms to ward off a sudden chill. What was taking Andrew so long?
As if he’d heard her silent plea, Detective Andrew Milhone strode into the room at that exact moment. Kat waved her hands in the air, breathing out a sigh of relief when he caught her signaling him and started making his way over.
He stopped in front of her, his forehead wrinkled in concern. “You okay?”
“I will be, now that you’re here. I was beginning to think you’d never show up.”
“There’s no parking outside. I had to find a spot on the street.”
Given the number of people in attendance tonight, Kat wasn’t surprised.
“So,” Andrew began, taking in their surroundings, “where is this John Sykes guy?”
“John Sykes?” A woman standing nearby swiveled around, one hand reaching up to fluff the teased-up mop atop her head. “I’ve been waiting for him to show up again.”
Kat darted a look at Andrew. With him present, there was no reason not to announce that John Sykes had died. The guests would find out as soon as the police started asking their questions anyway.
But before Kat could say anything, Andrew set his hand under the woman’s elbow. “Ma’am, I’ll have to ask you to stay clear of this area.”
“Why?” She stood rooted in place, her chin tilted upward. “I drove almost two hours for a chance to see John. I’m not leaving until I get his autograph.”
Andrew gripped her elbow more firmly and steered her toward a bank of chairs. “If you’ll just have a seat here, please.”
The woman darted Kat a perplexed look over her shoulder. Kat shrugged.
“Attention, folks,” a loud voice bellowed. “I need your attention, please.”
Kat looked around, her eyes landing on Chief Kenny, the Cherry Hills Police Department chief. The large man stood in the center of the room, his arms raised as he commanded the guests to cease their individual conversations and listen to what he had to say.
“We have an incident in progress,” Chief Kenny told the crowd, his booming voice carrying fine even without the aid of a microphone. “One of the guests has died.”
A collective gasp rose through the crowd. Kat could only imagine the inevitable explosion that would result when they learned the dead guest was none other than their idol.
“I need everybody to stay put,” Chief Kenny said. “Nobody is permitted to leave the premises until we give you the green light.”
Kat braced herself in anticipation of Chief Kenny’s announcement of the deceased’s name, but he went to join Andrew without another word. Kat could only figure they still had to notify John’s family.
Reminded that Marta Sykes likely had no idea her husband was dead, Kat’s stomach clenched. She wondered if the police even knew what John’s wife looked like or where to find her.
Kat checked the side of the room where she had seen Marta earlier. Failing to spot her, she then made a visual sweep of the area. Marta was nowhere in sight.
“Hey there.”
Kat swiveled around, coming face-to-face with Eli Giovanni.
“Didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, flashing her a blinding smile.
“It’s okay.” She noticed that Eli’s hair was still damp. No, she corrected herself, it wasn’t wet but smothered in copious amounts of hair gel.
“I thought you might like to chat, considering how we’re not allowed to leave and we have no clue how long this will take.” He extended his hand. “I’m Eli.”
“Kat.” She noticed he had a firm handshake. Even after they let go she could feel the lingering sensation of his fingers clasping hers.
Eli nodded toward Chief Kenny giving orders to several people on the other side of the room. “Any idea what’s going on?”
Kat’s heart skipped a beat. “Um, no.” Her palms grew clammy at the lie, and she tucked her hands behind her back, hoping Eli didn’t notice.
“Whatever it is, I hope they get it resolved soon. I’ve got a bottle of wine and a Jacuzzi tub waiting for me upstairs in my room.”
Kat didn’t say anything. Once Eli found out his partner was dead, he might not find that bath and wine so relaxing after all.
Sundae stuck one of his paws through the bars of his cage. He reached toward Eli with a demanding meow.
Eli grinned. “Hey, look at this little guy.”
“That’s Sundae,” Kat told him, grateful to be discussing something other than the police presence. “He’s up for adoption if you’re interested.”
“Nah. I’m a fan of cats, but I can’t swing the responsibility right now.” Eli cupped his palm near his mouth and leaned closer. “Keep this to yourself, but I expect to be working some extended hours in the near future.”
“Oh?”
“Yep.” Eli shoved his hands in his pants pockets and rocked back on his heels. “If things go according to plan, I should be getting my own show soon.”
Kat studied him. Did Eli have an inkling of what had happened to his co-host? It wasn’t beyond reason to think he might have overheard one of the authorities commenting on John’s fate a little too loudly. And he sounded pretty confident about getting his own show. Was that because John’s death meant an automatic promotion, or had Eli’s new opportunity already been in the works?
And exactly how badly did Eli want to get out from under his co-host’s shadow, enough to kill the man?
“You here to see John?” Eli asked.
The mention of John’s name caused Kat to nearly topple over in her heels. “Um, no. I helped to put this event together. I’m the Furry Friends Foster Families treasurer.”
“Treasurer, huh?”
“Among other things. There are only three of us on the board, so we kind of fill all roles.”
Eli pursed his lips. “How come you didn’t approach me about auctioning off something?”
“What do you mean?”
“You asked John to donate an evening of his time for your cause, but you never asked me. I’m on the radio as much as he is.”
“Imogene Little, our president, is actually the person who contacted John.” Kat regretted the confession as soon as it left her lips. Although his tone was friendly, she sensed Eli was peeved, as if he viewed 4F’s failure to approach him as a snub. “It was probably just an oversight on her part. I’m sure she would welcome your participation in future fundraising efforts.”
“Fair enough. You can tell this Imogene person I’m always up for donating a date night to a good cause. But she might want to wait a few weeks, until my own show is established. People bid more on the leading man than the two-bit sidekick.”
Eli chuckled, but Kat detected something sinister there. How much did anyone really know about this man? she wondered. The friendly persona he put on for the sake of his radio listeners might be miles away from his true personality.
“Excuse me, sir?”
Kat exhaled when she spotted Andrew heading toward them. She hadn’t realized until then how tense this conversation had made her.
“You looking for me?” Eli asked Andrew.
Andrew flashed his badge. “I’d like to ask you some questions. If you would follow me, please.”
“What’s this all about?”
Andrew started toward the other side of the room, motioning for Eli to accompany him. “I’ll brief you in private.”
Eli didn’t follow right away. “We’ll have to continue this conversation later,” he said to Kat.
She tracked Eli as he trailed after Andrew, on alert for any indication he might have killed his partner. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for exactly—maybe a tear in his shirt or a limp sustained when John had fought back—but she didn’t see anything that set off alarm bells.
Sundae whined. Kat reached through the bars to pet him.
“Don’t worry, buddy,” she said. “If he’s involved, Andrew will get to the bottom of it.”
She hoped she was right.