Bond Ambition Read online

  As we kneaded the balls of dough, I couldn't keep my gaze off of Flirty Fawn and the way she leaned her upper torso into each push. She was obviously trying to catch Chef Antonio's eye, but he wasn't looking. Oh, he caught a glimpse or two, but he wasn't ogling.

  We cut our balls of dough in half and let them rest under a kitchen towel on the side of our boards. Then we went about peeling, seeding, and chopping our poblanos. When that was all done, we added them to the tomato-and-onion concoctions with some cilantro, a squeeze of lemon, and salt.

  Elaine and I tasted from our bowls and smiled at each other. This was the best salsa I'd had in a long time. I could make this at home often. This alone made the lesson outstanding.

  Chef Antonio started on the steak. As it sizzled on the grill, he poured each of us another glass of wine.

  I placed my hand over my glass. "I'm driving. Thank you."

  He nodded then walked over to Elaine. She displayed an enormous grin and let him add more to her glass. Part of me wished I'd allowed my new friend to drive. The wine was delicious. It had a deep, aged taste. I tried to read the name on the bottle, but the label wasn't facing me.

  "Tell me more about yourself, Charley Alexander." Chef Antonio's smile was brilliant. His teeth were super straight and blinding white.

  That was very attractive to me. Not just his teeth or the smattering of dark hairs across his bronzed chest but that he took care of himself. Many men in my dating age bracket didn't bother anymore. Or didn't try. Actually, I supposed the same could be said about some of the women too. For a moment I couldn't help but wonder just how hard those pectorals were, but this man was a good decade younger than I.

  A flash of my dear husband, Robert, flittered across my mind. What would he think of me with a younger man? I smiled at the thought, and Chef Antonio must've thought the grin was directed at him, because his own smile widened.

  "Charley's daughter works for a private investigator," Elaine blurted out.

  I quickly frowned at her. It wasn't a secret, but it seemed like such an odd thing to tell a room of strangers. Besides, I believed he wanted to know about me and not Maya.

  Flirty Fawn and Jock Judy oohed. Merlot Martha grimaced.

  "That sounds exciting," Chef Antonio said and checked on the steak.

  "It is. My daughter is not a private investigator though. She's the administrative assistant, but without her the agency would fall apart. Her boss talks about how valuable Maya is to their work all the time."

  "And Charley's helped them too," Elaine added.

  Heat rose into my face. I wasn't one to brag. Well, not too much.

  Chef Antonio flipped the steak then turned to us. "Oh, do tell."

  "I didn't do much," I said with a small wave of my fingers.

  Elaine scoffed. "She's being modest. We and the entire agency went to Las Vegas to track down a killer."

  "Oh my," said Flirty Fawn.

  "It really was the professionals who apprehended him." I glanced to Elaine to see if she was going to blurt anything else out. She was a dear, but she needed to remember that Jamie's work was confidential. We did not need to blab about it to others.

  She must've caught on to my downplaying the events in Las Vegas, because she softly nodded with a half smile.

  I didn't want to take away all of her fun though, so I said, "We did get to see Heavy Cash perform."

  No one recognized the name of the rapper. I didn't blame them. "It's okay. I didn't know who he was until I saw him live. Rap isn't my style of music. Give me the Rolling Stones or the Beatles, however, and I could get down." I chuckled.

  Chef Antonio smiled, but the other women laughed with me. They understood. Maya said I needed to learn current-day slang, and I tried. Some of it went straight over my head or was plain ridiculous. Everything was shortened nowadays for Twitter and online chatter too. Like IDK for "I don't know." And saying "feels" for when you were having feelings. Is it that hard to add an "ing"?

  The steak was done, and Chef Antonio set it on a plate to the side. The sultry beef scent filled the kitchen, and my mouth watered.

  Elaine smiled. "That looks and smells so yummy."

  "It needs to rest for a few moments. We can get started on making our tortillas. I'll show you how to flatten them, and then two of you at a time can come up and cook them."

  Excitement ran through me, and I slid to the edge of my stool, closer to the island.

  Chef Antonio looked over his shoulder and frowned. "Where is Bonnie?"

  We all glanced to her empty spot.

  Then I remembered. "She left a few minutes ago. Probably to the bathroom. I can get her."

  I slid off my stool and pointed to my purse, which sat on the floor. Elaine nodded, agreeing to keep her eye on it. Nothing would happen to it, but this was L.A., and I was accustomed to guarding it. You just never knew. I may not have been privy to all of the cases that Jamie Bond worked on, but Maya would occasionally mention small bits. She worried about me at times, being on my own, alone in my house. She wanted to make sure I didn't get conned or get into anything "dangerous and unbecoming." Those were her words. I understood her concern. It was the word "unbecoming" that bothered me. As if a person my age had to appear a certain way. I believed that it was precisely my age that allowed me to do whatever the heck I wanted.

  Chef Antonio pointed to the ceiling. "The bathroom is up the stairs and down the hall."

  I nodded and walked out of the kitchen. The staircase had a slight curve to it, so at the top, I was able to look down and see the foyer and the front half of the living room. There were second-story windows that aligned with the first floor, almost giving it the illusion that they ran both floors. The view of the front yard was amazing.

  I walked past three doors, all of which were shut, and stopped in front of the bathroom. Its door was ajar. I knocked and then pushed it open. It was unlit and empty.

  "Baby…um, Bonnie?"

  I turned to the doors just past the bathroom and opened them. The first was a narrow linen closet, and from a quick glance it seemed that Chef Antonio owned Egyptian cotton towels. He definitely had wonderful taste.

  The second door led to a guest bedroom and the next to a study. I turned to the door on the other side of the hall. It had to be the master bedroom—the room the sun had shone in when we'd first arrived. I pushed open the door. The sun had set some, and the amber glow had darkened, but it still held my attention.

  I stepped inside and gasped.

  Centered on the beige throw rug, at the foot of the king-sized platform bed, was Baby Bonnie. She was on her stomach, her face turned toward me. Her eyes were open, and there was white foam around the corners of her mouth.

  Oh no. She was dead.

  * * *

  Elaine and I sat on a sofa and held hands. I was certain my complexion was as pale as the cushions. The police had arrived ten minutes earlier, and except for crying from Jock Judy and sniffles from Chef Antonio, the rest of us were quiet. I assumed we were all in shock and processing what had happened.

  I'd never seen a dead body before. Well, there was my darling husband, but that was different. This was so unexpected, and what was with the foaming at her mouth? Was she sick? Maybe she was prone to seizures or had an allergic reaction to something she ate before coming here. I glanced toward the kitchen. It had to be before because there'd been no food served yet. Everything sat on the stove and island. All of that deliciousness getting cold and congealing. The only thing we'd ingested here was the wine, and the rest of us were fine.

  Our wineglasses had also been on the island, but I didn't see them anymore. That was odd. Why would someone clean up at a time like this? The police must've taken them for evidence. Perhaps they had the same concerns as I did.

  That made me inwardly grin. I wasn't happy about any of this, but the notion that I shared the same thoughts as the professionals…well, that made me happy.

  The police had talked to everyone except me so far. One detective,
the taller, more angular one, had taken Flirty Fawn into another room to talk to her.

  The second detective approached me, and I swallowed hard. It was my turn. I wasn't sure why I was so nervous. I had nothing to be anxious about. It wasn't an authority thing. In fact, I had dealt with law enforcement only a few times in my lifetime, and most were traffic violations. When I was a young college student, I loved to speed, but that was short-lived due to the threat of losing my license. Oh wait—there was also that time recently when I was arrested for breaking and entering, but that hadn't been my fault, and Jamie Bond and Maya had it cleared up.

  The detective led me to the long mahogany dining room table that seated eight. It sat on the other side of the staircase, between the piano area and the kitchen. The windows looked out to an empty yard with grass just as lush as in the front and a smattering of different exotic flowers and plants artfully arranged along its border. Chef must've spent a fortune on gardening.

  The detective sat at the head of the table and pointed to a seat to his right. He looked to be close to retirement age himself, in brown trousers and a white button-down. The top button was undone, and a light yellow smear sat on the pocket, suggesting he'd had a hot dog or something else that called for mustard today.

  "You are…" He glanced down at his notepad. "Charlotte Alexander?"

  "Yes, but please call me Charley." My mother had named me after the Brontë sisters, Charlotte Emily Alexander. It was a nice name, but I never felt like a Charlotte. I never felt like a proper woman. Oh, I was in many ways. I filed my taxes on time. I was always on time to appointments and events. And I still sent out handwritten thank-you cards. I'd never been in serious trouble, but I've always been attracted to the wild side, hence my once love for fast driving.

  "Can you tell me what happened tonight?" the detective asked.

  I relayed everything that I remembered. "Her mouth… Why was it foaming? Was she sick?"

  I wanted to ask the more sinister question, like had she been poisoned, but the words didn't come out of my mouth. It was such a heinous thing to think about. I surely couldn't speak of it. Besides, who would want to harm that poor, sweet girl? She was a bit naïve, but that wasn't a reason for murder.

  The officer scratched the top of his head and wouldn't look me in the eyes. "So how well did you know the victim?"

  He wasn't going to answer my question. I wasn't sure if that simply had to do with police procedure or if he was hiding something. Suspicion had grabbed ahold of me, and I doubted it would be letting go any time soon. Stubborn and determined were clearly at the top of my list of traits.

  I looked toward the living room. I could only see part of it from where I was seated, and that included the back of Jock Judy's head.

  "Ma'am?"

  I cleared my throat. "Yes, I didn't know her at all. Tonight was the first night I ever met her."

  "So you haven't been coming to the classes the past six months like the others?"

  I shook my head. "No. My friend Elaine and I came here for the first time tonight."

  He must not have been expecting that answer, because he rubbed his chin, as if in thought. "Well, did you notice anything out of the ordinary?"

  "Since I've never been here before, I don't know what the ordinary is. But everyone seemed to act normally, I guess."

  He raised his head and stared into my eyes. Finally. Was it too much to ask to look a person in the eye when speaking? "What do you mean, you guess?" he asked.

  I glanced around to see if anyone had moved in the two seconds since I'd last looked over. I doubted anyone was close enough to overhear, but just the same I lowered my voice. "There was a lot of flirting with the chef."

  The officer smirked. "I don't think that's cause for alarm."

  Perhaps not. But I paid to be taught how to cook, not to date.

  "Anything else?"

  I thought back to the last couple of hours, and nothing really stood out as unusual. "No. We arrived, we met the chef, he introduced us to the other women, and we began cooking. We drank wine, and he showed us how to cook the meal. The whole time we discussed various things, mostly about ourselves, getting to know one another. And then at one point Bonnie excused herself and walked out of the room. I assumed she was going to the bathroom, so when it was time for us to start making the tortillas, I said I would go find her."

  "But she wasn't in the bathroom. You found her in one of the bedrooms?"

  Well obviously. It wasn't as if I found her in the bathroom and dragged her across the hall into the master suite. But I kept those snarky thoughts to myself.

  "Yes, that's correct."

  The officer nodded his head, stood up, and placed a business card on the table. "I will be in touch if I have any more questions. If you think of anything else, please give me a call."

  I took the card and stared at it even though I barely saw the letters. My thoughts were on poor Bonnie.

  He took a step away and then glanced back. "And please don't leave town for awhile."

  Awhile? Exactly how long was that? Not that I had plans to do so but…

  I widened my eyes and stared at his back while he walked into the living room. Wait. On TV the police asked suspects to not leave town. Did he think I had something to do with this? How dare he.

  I softly gasped.

  That meant this wasn't just an accident or medical condition.

  Bonnie had been murdered.

  * * *

  The next morning, I decided to go by the Bond Agency. I hadn't slept much during the night. My dreams had included a giant pool of red wine. At least I assumed it was wine and not blood, being that it was darker, like Merlot. And every time I woke up I thought of poor Baby Bonnie. What had truly happened to her? Who would've killed her? How? Why? I wanted answers, which was why I stopped by the agency.

  I pushed open the door and immediately heard the click-clacking of a keyboard. My daughter, Maya, was seated at the front desk, typing. She didn't notice me at first, her head slightly bent, intently staring at her monitor. Her Bluetooth headset sat on her right ear, and she wore an aqua blue miniskirt and a white top that perfectly flattered her coloring.

  The waiting area was empty. Sunshine filtered through the front windows and made early-morning patterns on the floor.

  "Mom?" Maya stood up but stayed positioned between her chair and desk. "What are you doing here? Is everything alright?"

  I smiled at my beautiful little girl who'd become such an amazing young woman. "I am fine."

  Relief washed over her face, and she let out a long breath.

  My grin widened. She was worried about me. Not that I thought she wouldn't be if warranted, but it was sweet to hear. My chest swelled, and I had to swallow back a lump of maternal tears.

  Maya hurried around her desk and wrapped me in a big hug. I shut my eyes, squeezed her back, and breathed in her honeydew scent.

  "Do we have plans for lunch?" she asked when we let go.

  The whoosh of an opening door sounded, and I turned to see Jamie Bond and one of her associates, Caleigh Presley, enter the waiting area.

  Jamie looked dazzling in a black pencil skirt, pink blouse, and black sling-backs. Her long blonde hair framed her stunning face. Jamie had been a fashion model when she was younger. It was how she met Caleigh, her other associate, Sam, and Maya.

  My daughter had modeled for a few years right out of high school, so if I said she was my beautiful girl, you'd know that wasn't just maternal preference talking. She was featured in several magazines and was even selected as Miss March for Playboy. Which had unsettled me a bit at first, but considering some of my youthful antics that shall remain unspoken of, I couldn't really judge her. Her father hadn't felt quite the same way, of course, but he never let Maya know he'd been unnerved about men possibly seeing his baby girl au natural. He would never have let her think he was anything but supportive of her. She was his princess.

  "Charley, it's so great to see you." Jamie stepped over and
gave me a quick hug and kiss on the cheek.

  Caleigh did the same, but she almost bounced into the space between us. Her energy felt contagious.

  "I hope I'm not interrupting at a bad time," I said. From their casual reaction to seeing me, I assumed they hadn't heard about the previous night. I wasn't surprised. I'd scoured the paper in the morning and hadn't found a word about poor Baby Bonnie. It also wasn't on the news the night before. Was her death not important enough? The whole thing was so sad.

  "Not at all," Jamie said. "I heard voices and wondered if my next client was early."

  Caleigh popped a wad of gum into her mouth. "And I was shootin' the breeze. We have a lull right now."

  Maya's brows drew together. "Mom, are you sure you're okay?"

  I offered a smile, but I was sure it wasn't confident. Images of Baby Bonnie's face kept creeping into my mind. "I do need to tell you something."

  Maya's complexion grew pale. She nodded and led me over to the armchairs set up in the waiting area.

  We each took one, and then all three of them did matching frowns. I filled them in on my night with Elaine and watched Maya's and Caleigh's animated expressions. Jamie, on the other hand, remained stoic. She was processing it all. I could see it in her eyes.

  "Mom," Maya shrieked when I was done. "You could've been hurt."

  Was she serious? I almost laughed but caught myself. This wasn't a funny moment. "No one wants to murder me."

  "But what if you'd gotten in the killer's way?" Her eyes were huge.

  I softly sighed. My happiness at her concern wavered. It was still sweet but unnecessary. I wasn't a child. I could take care of myself. "I am fine, and this isn't about me. It's about that poor girl. I can't get the foaming of her mouth out of my mind. I want to know what happened to her."

  Jamie stood up and smoothed down her skirt with her hands. "I need to call Elaine and check in on her. And don't worry, Charley. We got this. Maya, find out all you can about Bonnie. Do you have a last name?"