Murder by Mocha

But Troy clammed up.

I touched Franco’s arm. Lifting his handkerchief to my bloody nose, I made sure to shield my lips. Let me, I silently mouthed.

Franco nodded. He understood my strategy and seemed happy to play along. Even though these two weren’t yet arrested and Mirandized, Franco was still a cop. If he asked questions, there were legal implications. But if I asked questions, well, I was simply a witness having a conversation that he happened to overhear. . .

“We know you tried to drug Alicia Bower in her hotel room the other night,” I charged, voice muffled by the hanky. “What drug did you give her? She’s an older woman in frail health. You could have killed her!”

Troy paled. “She was never in any danger. You can’t prove it—”

“Oh, yes we can! Alicia dumped half of your cocktail into her hotel room’s vase, and that sample is being tested by an NYPD crime lab. We’ll have proof against you soon enough, with or without your cooperation.”

“I’m telling you, Alicia was never in any danger! I knew her weight, her age, and I mixed the cocktail up especially for—”

“A roofie’s a roofie,” I said, “and administering one is a crime.”

“I just wanted to scare her,” Troy insisted. “Make sure she didn’t attend that product launch party. I tried to get her to come away with me, go on a last-minute romantic getaway to the Hamptons—but she was so obsessed with that stupid party she couldn’t think of anything else!”

“So you drugged her?”

“It was harmless, just part of an act, a stage show. I wasn’t going to take advantage of her. I was just trying to scare her.”

“With drugs?”

“Look, lady, I was desperate, so I went with a con I’d pulled a few years ago on the wife of some CEO in Palm Springs.”

“Is that what earned you the parole card?”

“No. I had a pharmacist’s degree, till I got busted for distributing steroids.”

Franco glanced at me with a half smile. “A muscle-head using steroids? I’m shocked... shocked!”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” Troy said. “I had a license. I’ve got the knowledge. I didn’t mean Alicia any harm. I mixed up a cocktail with enough juice for her to sleep the full eight and wake up fuzzy enough to buy my butchered boyfriend act—”

“And believe she might have done the butchering,” I said.

“That’s right,” Troy replied. “I even gave myself a zombie cocktail.”

“A what?”

“Something I created. It’s a mix of drugs that slows the pulse, makes the skin cold to the touch, plus a sedative and muscle relaxant to help me play dead.”

“There’s really a mix of drugs that can do all that?”

“What? You never heard of Romeo and Juliet?” He smirked. “I woke up right on time, too. When I heard you in the hotel room, talking on the phone, I knew the whole thing was blown. I took off right after you left.”

I faced Vanessa. “And you were supposed to pretend to be his girlfriend? His wife? Someone to convince Alicia she’d better get out of town before the police arrived—and leave you some money for a lawyer before she left?”

“Yes, that’s all there was to it,” Vanessa said.

“So what’s your position at Aphrodite’s Village Online?” I asked.

She shook her head. “I’m and actress/model. I don’t work for that company.”

Boy, I liked that answer. “So...” I glanced at Franco, feeling pretty proud of myself. “Someone hired you to do this. What was the payoff?”

“Nothing,” Vanessa replied. “Just promises, that’s all. Only she can’t deliver on those promises. Not now.”

I blinked behind the hanky. “Why can’t she deliver?”

Vanessa stared at me with dead eyes. “She promised us big parts in her new Web series. Troy. Me. We were going to be rich Internet stars—and most likely cable television, too. All we had to do was make that stupid witch miss her launch party.”

“Maya promised you all this?” I asked.

“Maya?” Vanessa said. “Who the hell is Maya?”

Oh God, I thought as the truth dawned. All the dots were there to connect. The California link. The lead role in a Web series. None of that pointed to the fitness queen, Maya Lansing.

“It was Patrice Stone who hired you, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” Vanessa said. “We met her at an audition about a month ago. Patrice said she knew our work and would find something for us.” A shadow crossed her face. “What Patrice really knew about was Troy’s criminal record.”

“And Patrice made you an offer.” I coughed into the hanky. “Why? Patrice was a golden girl. The sky was the limit for her.”

“Not according to what Patrice told me. She said Aphrodite was real tight with Alicia Bower and that radio doctor, Sherri Sellars. Back in college, Aphrodite and Sherri were in the same sorority or clique or something, and Alicia was their professor. Anyway, Aphrodite is planning an exit strategy. In another five years, she’s going to promote a replacement to head her company. Patrice wanted that spot. Her only other real competition was Sherri and Alicia—and Alicia was the one who’d come up with a really lucrative product, so she’s the one who needed to be taken down a peg.”

“So Patrice knew about your crazy plan?”

“No. She didn’t care about the details. She just wanted Alicia kept away from the launch party.”

“Only something went wrong.”

“Yes, Troy screwed up, and Alicia made the party,” Vanessa said. “I went to Patrice’s hotel room this morning, to beg for another shot. That’s when I found out...”

“Patrice Stone was murdered last night.”

“What?” Troy cried.

Vanessa turned to him. “I was just coming to tell you. Patrice is dead.”

Four uniformed NYPD officers arrived in time to hear Troy curse a blue streak. Franco pulled him to his feet, greeted two of the cops by name.

“Take this pair into custody and Mirandize both of them.” He leaned close to my ear. “Not that they have much more to tell us, thanks to your curious mommy act. I can see why Big Mike is sweet on you.”

“You want them at the Sixth, right, Detective?” one of the uniforms asked.

Franco shook his head. “The One Seven. The Fish Squad is going to want a nice, long sit-down with Vanessa and the Sun God.”

Outside the convention center, the sky was clear, the weather balmy. The sun was shining so brightly, it made my nose sting even more.

“Who knew Candy Land could be so much fun?” Franco said, still shaking pita crumbs and yogurt bits out of his jacket.

I continued to dab my bloodied nose with his hanky as I watched a handcuffed Troy Talos being placed into a sector car. Another NYPD vehicle idled at the curb with Vanessa already in the backseat. Franco noticed my nonresponse and gave me a strange look.

“Are you feeling okay, Coffee Lady?”

My ponytail was undone, my nose felt raw and swollen, and the front of my henley was splashed with my own blood. I shook my head.

“I think I’m in shock.”

“Then let’s get you to an ER.”

He took my elbow, but I shook my head.

“It’s mental. I’m still trying to process what Vanessa told us.”

“What part?”