Kissed Blind (Hot Pursuit #2)(21)

Vance dropped his voice low, “She took me around and showed me some of the different sets and explained how they do a few things. I never thought about all that goes on. It’s amazing how a rundown warehouse can look like another world inside. I’m impressed.”

“Yeah, it was cool watching Oliver get made up.” Shooting stopped while someone adjusted a prop in the scene. “I think she likes you.”

He tilted his head but didn’t look at me. “Who? Cici?”

“Duh.”

He cocked a sideways grin. “She’s nice. I don’t have any complaints.”

“You can’t get involved with her.”

“Uh, yes I can. Now stop talking before you get us in trouble.”

A man seated next to the director shot us a heated stare, and I shut up, shrugging an apology.

It was a long day of filming, and we didn’t leave the set until well after the sun went down. We loaded into the Rover and took an exhausted Oliver home.

At the desk in the lobby, Oliver made small talk with Barry.

“Evening, Mr. Pierce,” Barry said, in his deep-timbered voice. “Your lovely wife returned back not too long ago with her arms weighted down with lots of bags.”

“She texted me on the drive here and said she’d had a successful day.” Oliver laughed. “She’s a phenomenal actress, but between you and me, I think she was born to shop.”

Barry chuckled and his whole body shook. “Sounds like we’re married to similar women.”

“Barry, for your sake, I hope not too similar.” He shook Barry’s hand. “Have a good night. Don’t work too hard.”

“Night, Mr. Pierce. You all have a nice night too.”

We all said goodnight and took the elevator up. Inside the penthouse, all the lights were on, but it was eerily quiet. No television was on, and no music played. Oliver threw his bag on the floor next to the door and tossed his jacket off.

“Cici, would you run upstairs and tell Camille we’re here. I want to grab something to eat before I collapse.”

“Sure, no problem. Be right back.” She flashed another dimpled smile at Vance and trotted off.

Oliver went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. “So, tomorrow’s schedule is going to be a little different. I’m meeting with a trainer here in the morning and shooting isn’t going to start until later, they need afternoon light and the weather looks like it’s going to cooperate.”

“Cici gave us a full schedule. We’re all up to date,” I said.

His eyebrows shot up. “She did? I know Camille complains about her, but I swear Cici is worth every penny I pay her and more.” He grabbed some deli meats from the fridge and tossed a loaf of bread down on the counter. He grabbed a jagged edged knife and sliced through the thick crust.

Upstairs, Cici screamed, “Oliver!”





Seven





“Oliver! Oliver! It’s Camille!” Cici shouted again. “Oh my God!”

Vance and I pulled our guns, and we ran toward Cici’s screams upstairs. Vance took the lead, and I was behind him shielding Oliver. We ran down a long hallway straight into the master bedroom. Cici stood over Camille’s lifeless body. She was strewn across fluffy, down-filled bedding, hair fanned out in an array of silken waves behind her head, but her face was covered in blazing red blotches, and her lips were blue.

She had to have been standing next to the bed and passed out. Lying on her side, her feet dangled over the edge. Her purse was on the floor, its contents partially spilled. Two tubes of lip gloss and the compact I’d seen her using earlier were on the carpet. On the nightstand, a clear cup filled with green liquid was sweating onto the wood.

Oliver ran to her side and shook her. He put his ear to her chest. “Wake up, baby, wake up.” He smacked her cheeks, but it had no effect.

“Did you see anyone up here?” I asked Cici. I stayed close to the doorway and looked out into the hall as I scanned the room for anything out of the ordinary. Vance had already come out of a closet and walked toward the en suite bathroom.

Cici glanced at the sweating cup and her eyes filled with tears. “No… no one was here. I walked in and she was like this.”

Oliver repositioned Camille’s body, laying her flat on her back. He grabbed the pillows from the bed and placed them under her feet, raising them higher and higher.

“I’ll call nine-one-one,” I said, replacing my weapon as Vance exited the bathroom. He gave me our signal that everything was clear.

“No!” Oliver snapped. “Cici, gather up her purse and hand it to me.” Cici replaced everything into the baby blue leather bag and handed it to Oliver. He sat on the bed next to Camille and rifled through it. He handed Cici his phone. “Make the call.”

Cici nodded, walked into the bathroom, and shut the door.

“Make what call?” I asked. “She needs an ambulance.”

“No, she doesn’t. She’ll be fine. I can take care of this.” His voice quivered, offering me no reassurance.

“She doesn’t look fine.”

“She’s breathing. I just need to get the medicine in her, and it’ll be fine.” He retrieved a pouch from her purse and held it in his hand. “I just need to keep her from going into shock.” He opened the pouch and took out something that looked like a child’s glue stick, but it was longer. He removed an orange cap and began lifting the fabric of Camille’s skirt. He stopped and looked at Vance and me. “If you and Vance could go downstairs and give us some privacy. We don’t need you right now. In a few minutes someone will be arriving. They’re to be buzzed up and let in. Am I clear?”