“I’m sure.”
Austen leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. The smile came back, only this one wasn’t meant to dazzle, at least not in the same way. “You know, I can help you with that headache.”
“Pardon me?”
“Your headache. I studied some massage back in the day. Honest. I can help.”
Maybe it was what Mia had told him about Austen and Geiger being involved, but Bax had the distinct impression that Danny’s offer was for more than headache relief. He stood up, made sure his notebook was tucked safely in his pocket. “Thanks, but I’ll be fine.”
Danny leaned back slowly, keeping his eye contact steady. “Anything I can do to be of assistance, Detective. I’m in suite 1510.”
“I’ll let you know.” Bax got to the door and out into the garage, ninety-percent certain he’d been hit on. And ninety-percent certain Danny Austen had lied to him about the night of Geiger’s murder.
MIA SMILED AT THE WOMAN standing at her station. She hadn’t seen her before, but something told her that this woman wasn’t a guest. There was an air of agitation about her, as if she’d just come from an accident or bad news.
It was in the way her long blondish hair rested on her shoulders, unkempt and slightly greasy. In the smudges of old makeup around her eyes, the paleness of her cheeks. Her blouse was silk, expensive, but her pants had seen better days.
“How can I help you?” Mia asked.
“I’m here for lunch with Piper Devon,” she said. “But I’m early.”
It was Sheila Geiger. No wonder she looked so distraught. “Would you like some tea to pass the time while I notify Ms. Devon?”
Mrs. Geiger looked at her sharply, as if she’d expected an argument. “If it comes with a shot of bourbon.”
Mia turned to Allan at the front desk. “Could you take my calls for a bit, please?”
Allan nodded, and Mia came around her desk, slipping her earpiece into her pocket. “Let’s get you comfortable,” she said, leading Mrs. Geiger toward the bar. They weren’t open yet, but she knew Dahlia, the day bartender, was inside. While Mia looked for her, she made a quick call to Piper’s office, letting her assistant know the situation.
A few minutes later, tea was being brewed and Mia sat across from the widow. “I’m so very sorry for your loss,” she said.
“You know who I am?”
Mia smiled. “I was aware of the lunch engagement.”
“So you know that someone from this hotel killed my husband.”
“It must be devastating. How long were you married?”
“Eight years.”
“That’s a long time. Do you have children?”
Sheila shook her head. Some of the fire was gone from her eyes, but Mia knew she was treading close to the edge. “We meant to.”
“It’s so very sad. I hope you have someone to be with you. To help.”
“My sister lives in Queens.”
“That’s good. Ah, here comes your tea.”
Dahlia brought a pot of hot water and a box with an assortment of herbal teas along with two cups.
“Where’s the bourbon?”
“Coming right up,” Mia said, giving a nod to the bartender.
It was early yet, just past eleven in the morning. Mia was quite sure the bourbon was a bad idea, but she didn’t want to agitate Mrs. Geiger further.
“They all thought he was such a bastard. Well he wasn’t. He had a right to earn a living, just like anyone else. Those people, always complaining about the paparazzi, but they’d be pretty goddamn pissed if there was nobody wanting their pictures.
“I was the one who got the calls. Gerry was out working, so they’d call me. You know how all the photographers find out where the movie stars are gonna be? They call ahead, that’s how. They call my house and leave messages. They’re gonna be at Grand Union, at Hush, at all those bars all over the city. Then they spit on my husband for doing their dirty work.”
“I had no idea,” Mia said, sipping her Earl Grey.
Mrs. Geiger poured a very generous shot of bourbon into her cup. She didn’t even look at the tea. “Those bastards. You ask that goddamn Danny Austen. He called my Gerry. Don’t let him tell you different. He’s got some secrets, that one. Just ask him about Mexico. Then he gets upset when Gerry finds out he goes both ways, you know? Damn bastard.”
Danny Austen was bi. Mia had doubted it when Lorraine had suggested…but this confirmed the rumor, didn’t it? Or was the tail wagging the dog? Maybe Danny wasn’t bi at all. Maybe Gerry Geiger wanted to start something. Maybe that’s what had gotten him killed. And there was that Mexico thing. Interesting.
She looked sharply at Mrs. Geiger, afraid she’d given something away. The woman was upset, distraught. And drunk. The bourbon Dahlia had brought wasn’t her first. Probably wouldn’t be her last. “Did Danny and your husband have an argument? I mean, just before…”
“Argument is putting it lightly. I told that cop that it was Danny who killed him. He didn’t believe me, but that’s because Danny Austen is a movie star.’ Cause he has all that money. But money won’t get him off of a murder charge. Not if I have anything to say about it.” Sheila leaned in, and Mia had to stop herself from turning away from the alcohol on the woman’s breath. “He’s a killer. He thinks I don’t know. But I’ve got pictures.”
“From that night?”
Sheila took a drink, then leaned in once more. Only she stopped as the bar door opened. One of Piper’s assistants, not Lorraine this time, but Viv, was there as an escort to the meeting.
Mrs. Geiger didn’t give Mia a second thought. Grabbing her teacup of bourbon, she left the bar, cursing up a storm.
Mia went back to her station, wishing like crazy she could just go find Bax. Sheila Geiger had the camera! That must mean she was tied to the murder somehow, right? How else would she have gotten the pictures? No, Sheila hadn’t said they were from that night, so she’d better be careful what she told Bax. It was tempting to believe all she’d heard. Easy. Kind of how tempting it was to believe the tabloids.
She knew better. She would report what she’d heard but in a calm, clear way that didn’t reflect her own opinions. It’s what Piper would do.
Privately, however, she could think about what she’d heard. If Mrs. Geiger had the pictures from that night, what would that mean? That she’d killed him? Why would she want her husband dead, though? Sheila didn’t work. Geiger was her meal ticket.
No, it made a lot more sense that this was about Austen’s sex life. There were so many women madly in love with him, with his image, there’s no way his career would stay intact if it was known he slept with men.
And what the heck was up with Mexico? A secret tryst? An affair gone bad?
She got her personal cell and hit Carlane’s speed dial number. Her friend answered on the first ring.
“Have you heard any gossip about Danny Austen being bi?”
Carlane didn’t miss a beat. “What? Who did you see?”
“No one. It might be completely untrue. Have you heard anything?”
“God, no. He’s supposed to be the playboy of the western world.”
“Okay, thanks.”
“That’s it? You’re not even gonna tell me what you know?”
“I