THIRTY-SIX

Gillian could hardly wait to tell Brandon the good news. She’d finally found the flash drive that would save his company and his reputation! Anxiously, she called his cell phone on the way to the airport, but got voice mail. She was so excited she could hardly sit still. Finally she could relax and enjoy the huge success that was coming her way. In the back of her mind she’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop, fearful that Brandon would be indicted any day now, bringing her film career—and lifestyle—to a screeching halt. But now that she had evidence that the investigating agent was just a racist on a vendetta, she was as sure as Brandon was that it would be a thing of the past; after all, they had no hard evidence on him, only some loose connections and lots of speculation.

When the plane landed at LAX she headed straight to baggage claim, where she found Charles already waiting for her. In short order her luggage made its way around the carousel, but this time, as was her habit these days, she looked carefully at the name tags before having Charles load the bags up.

As she walked out of the airport doors, her thoughts also revisited the uncomfortable conversation she’d had with Detective Harris right after her last trip. She hadn’t heard from him since then, so she supposed that he’d come to the sane conclusion that there was no way that she or Brandon was in any way involved in Paulette’s death, for a very simple reason: They had no motive.

On the way home she again called Brandon’s cell phone, and again she got his voice mail, so she decided to try his assistant, who informed her that he was in back-to-back meetings, and probably wouldn’t be home until late. After arriving home herself, Gillian changed clothes and headed straight into his study. She wanted to pull up the video on the flash drive to make sure that it was still there and hadn’t been accidentally erased somehow. She plugged the device into the back of the computer and waited for it to pop up. She was giddy with excitement, envisioning how happy Brandon would be to see it.

After a few keystrokes, the contents of the drive popped up on the computer screen. She expected to see a video file, but instead there were two Excel spreadsheets. She closed her eyes, shook her head, and sighed heavily. She was very disappointed that the drive didn’t contain the evidence to clear Brandon’s name. It was a good thing that she hadn’t been able to get in touch with him. She would have hated to get his hopes up, only to be dashed. Gillian was about to pull the flash drive from the computer in defeat, when a voice told her that she should look to see what she did have. She opened the first spreadsheet and saw what appeared to be a routine accounting of Sunset Records’ books. Nothing important there. Then she opened the second document and found another almost identical spreadsheet. It contained the same company name, same time frame, and same line items, but totally different numbers. That was when it dawned on her that Brandon had been keeping a double set of books. She wasn’t an accounting or legal expert, but it was clear—even to her—that Brandon must have been laundering money. Why else would he need to keep two sets of records or concoct such a far-fetched story about a video to cover up the contents of the flash drive? Gillian dropped her head into her hands to keep the room from spinning. She saw her future going straight down the drain, right alongside his. She had to calm down and think about exactly what this meant. The first thought that came to mind was that Paulette had known about this, which explained why the note she’d written had had such a strange, cryptic tone.

A coat of perspiration covered her body as she also realized that this could have been reason enough for Brandon to murder Paulette. Not only would he have a really good motive, but he also had the opportunity, since her car was parked at his house when it was tampered with! Could Brandon have actually killed Paulette? Or maybe one of his gangster friends did it for him? At this moment she realized the explosive nature of the information she had.

She took the flash drive out of the computer and paced the floor, trying desperately to decide what she should do next. She wondered what Brandon would do to her if he realized that she knew about the double set of books and the note from Paulette. Obviously he hadn’t wanted her to know about it, since he’d come up with the elaborate lie about a racist agent. He simply wanted her to help him get the flash drive back from Paulette, hoping that she wouldn’t actually look at it. The big question was, Would he try to get rid of Gillian to protect himself?

Pacing wasn’t helping, so she shut down the computer and left his study, tucking the flash drive into one pocket and the note in the other, careful to make sure that nothing in the room looked disturbed. As she was walking down the hall toward her suite, she heard the door open and the butler say, “Good evening, Mr. Russell.”

Oh, shit, she thought, he’s home.