Chapter Twenty-Five

Aja Blue slowly awoke to a throbbing headache. She was lying on the floor atop an Oriental rug of some sort. She tried to remember what had happened. A woman had wanted a picture and then nothing. Where was Christian? She needed him.

"Christian?"

"Nope. No one here by that name."

Her eyes popped open, and her vision blurred. She could hear the yacht motoring through the water and felt a pleasant breeze, but it made her shiver.

"Remember me?"

She blinked the haze from her eyes and focused on the speaker. She jerked upright and instantly regretted it. The only explanation was that someone dropped something into her champagne. That would explain the fuzzy head and hallucinations. "Johnny Cash."

The man chuckled. "You must've had a bigger hit of the drug than expected for you to think I'm a dead country singer."

That confirmed that someone had doped her. "Who are you? Why have you been following me?"

"I'm neither admitting nor denying it, but how did you know? I'd like to think I'm a pretty decent spy."

She snorted. "You so are not. I'm a novice, and I spotted you at my condo a week ago and again in Sedona. When I came home, you were outside my office."

"About that, I don't appreciate you siccing the cops on me."

"Are you being serious right now? You were stalking me!"

"I know you used to be an actress, Aja Blue, but let's not get overly theatrical."

"Do not call me by my name," she muttered. "Why weren't you arrested?"

"I can talk my way out of anything," he bragged.

Probably with a cash donation, a.k.a. bribe. "You bugged my SUV."

"Sure did." He didn't sound the least bit sorry. "You were easy to follow since you used credit cards. What made you stop in Arizona?"

"You did."

That seemed to perplex him. "Really? I'm completely intrigued. How did you know I was the same guy?"

She thought about not telling him, but she might as well get a dig in about his fashion sense while she could. "That stupid, ugly hat you're wearing."

He frowned and took it off, and she gasped. "You're the man who held me at gunpoint at the Sinclair's house." She'd never forget that spiky white hair.

"Might I remind you that you were trespassing?"

She rolled her eyes and wobbled as the move sent her head spinning. "Again, since you seem incapable of understanding English, I was invited," she ground out.

He chuffed out a laugh. "Questioning my language skills? Low blow. However, that's neither here nor there."

"You're the one that shot at me. Twice."

He shook his head. "Nope. Not me. If I'd have taken a shot, it would've hit its mark, and you would currently be a big red blood splatter on the pavement."

Ew, gross. The visual almost made her upchuck the tainted bubbly. "Who was it?"

"Not a clue."

"You seriously don't know?"

"I had nothing to do with it, so you must've pissed off someone else. Wow, Aja Blue, it seems like you're racking up enemies right and left."

"Do not call me by my name," she snapped. "Who tried to kidnap me?"

Johnny scoffed. "He was a petty thief we hired to do one job, and he couldn't hold up his end of the contract."

"The so-called nurse killed him."

"He failed! We don't employ losers."

They hired you, she wanted to scream but clamped her lips shut. "The first cop who arrived on the scene was working with you, wasn't he?"

"I don't even know Officer Cranny." He smiled deviously.

Apparently, he did since he knew his name. "What happened to him?" When he started to shrug, she said, "No, don't tell me. Another loser."

"Nasty things, those loose ends."

They were human beings! Maybe not great ones, but she was sure they had families and loved ones who would mourn them. Johnny was answering questions all too freely, and she needed him to keep going. No sense in antagonizing him. "Why are you admitting to murder and various other crimes?"

His smile could only be described as predatory. "You think you're getting out of here alive?"

Fear gripped Aja Blue, and she started to stand, but her legs had other ideas.

"Sit your ass down."

"Do not talk to me like that. I'm leaving."

"No, you're not. We're waiting for—"

The door burst open, and Aja Blue gasped as a man strolled in like he owned the place . . . which, she guessed, he did.

"You've been a hard lady to capture, Ms. LaLonde," Heathcliff Sinclair drawled. He dropped behind a massive metal and glass desk, watching her with undisguised disdain.

Nothing made sense. What did he have against her? She'd never even met him. "Is this about the pool house?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "In a way. You were at my residence when you were not supposed to be there."

"That's not true," she argued. "I had an appointment with your wife."

"One I didn't know about. Besides, it was for hours earlier."

"I was unfortunately delayed."

He waved a hand. "It's neither here nor there now," he parroted Johnny Cash's earlier words. "I regret to inform you that your tardiness will result in your demise."

She couldn't believe she was having this conversation with a man who had been named one of the most influential people on the planet last month. He'd even made the Sexiest Man Alive list once or twice, though Aja Blue couldn't see it. His eyes were cold and aloof, and an aura of malice surrounded him. To her, he was ugly.

"My wife is a big fan of your work. That's the only reason you didn't suffer a bullet to the brain. Well, that, and I need to know who you've told."

Had she fallen down the rabbit hole? This had to be a dream. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Your friend said the same thing at first. We broke him."

A sliver of dread snaked down her spine. "What friend?"

Sinclair glanced at Johnny. "What was his name?"

"Guitterez," Johnny supplied.

"That's right. Mr. Guitterez. Thames, you can wait outside now."

"Yes, sir."

Aja Blue felt the blood drain from her face at the mention of Jay. "You killed him?"

"Of course not," he scoffed. "I have people who handle those things for me, like Thames. He doesn't mind getting his hands dirty. Do you, Thames?"

"No, sir."

"Leave now."

"Yes, sir."

The door closed behind Johnny, or Thames, or whatever his name was. She couldn't care less.

Sinclair opened a drawer and withdrew a shiny black pistol. "Like I said, I usually have people take care of the nasty work. This time, however, I'm going to make an exception."