Gabriel Cronan…” The publicist had Ethan Chandler on her arm. “…and his partner, Detective Angelica Ramirez. They’re working Olivia’s case.”
The woman made the introductions with a somber voice befitting the purpose of their visit. Her tone and attitude had been a complete departure from the flip way she’d talked about Olivia in her office earlier. No doubt she played it up for her client, pretending to feel his pain.
Dressed in navy slacks and a white shirt with rolled up sleeves, Ethan held out his hand in front of him and Gabe stepped over to shake it. Angel did the same.
“ Thank you for coming,” Ethan said. “Please, I want to help any way I can. I can’t believe Livie is dead.” The skin on his face looked blotchy red, and his eyes were watery. It looked like he’d taken the news hard.
Angel realized God must have been a woman after she saw the violinist for the first time. Only a woman would know how to create such perfection in the opposite sex. Ethan Chandler was the most beautiful man Angel had ever seen.
“You left messages for Olivia Davenport on the night she died,” she began. “Tell me about your plans for the evening.”
“ We had dinner reservations at Amandine’s on Halsted Street for eight o’clock, but Livie…she never showed.” Ethan’s lower lip trembled, and he visibly shook as he told them about his plans to meet Olivia and how she never answered his calls. When he was done, he said, “Oh my, God. Was she already dead…when I called?”
Rachel Blevins touched his chest and stroked fingers down his arm. He accepted her gesture without flinching. Ethan might not have been surprised by the intimacy, but Angel was. Without the ability to communicate to a blind man with a sympathetic facial expression, perhaps the publicist had only meant to send a message of concern to him in the only way she could.
Or maybe the woman’s touch carried another meaning.
“ We’re piecing together a timeline of her activities before she died. That’s why we’re here,” Angel said, avoiding an answer to his question. “Did Olivia give you any reason to expect her to be late to the restaurant? Had she run errands or did she meet anyone beforehand?”
“ No, not that I know of. She’d never been very punctual, but to not show up… “ He wiped a hand over his face. “She never told me anything about her plans for yesterday, but I could’ve been too distracted by rehearsals to ask.”
This time when Rachel touched his arm, Ethan clasped her hand in his, a show of affection that seemed natural between them.
“The news media is camped at the front entrance of the building, Ethan,” Rachel told him. “They’ll be looking for you. If you need to leave the building, call me, and we’ll use the same plan as we’ve done before. We can get in and out of this building without prying eyes.”
“ Great. A prisoner in my own home. Wonderful.” The violinist looked even more miserable.
“ I took the liberty of letting Harrison know what happened,” the publicist said. “He wants to see you later today.”
Ethan grimaced for a split second, enough to send Angel a clear message that something had triggered a reaction in him.
“Harrison? Who’s that?” Angel asked.
Rachel looked at Ethan before she replied, “Harrison Reeves. He’s Ethan’s agent.”
“ Okay. I can see clueing an agent in on something of this nature, but you don’t seem happy about that, Mr. Chandler. Why is that?”
Ethan shrugged. “He’s just a little…overbearing when it comes to…”
When he stopped, Rachel picked up the slack. “His agent has a hard time drawing the line between the business and personal affairs of his clients, that’s all. He has an overzealous nature when it comes to protecting Ethan’s interests.”
“ Reeves lives in Chicago?” Gabe asked.
“ Yeah, he does. If you need his contact information, I’m sure Rachel can get that for you,” Ethan offered, and his
The woman made the introductions with a somber voice befitting the purpose of their visit. Her tone and attitude had been a complete departure from the flip way she’d talked about Olivia in her office earlier. No doubt she played it up for her client, pretending to feel his pain.
Dressed in navy slacks and a white shirt with rolled up sleeves, Ethan held out his hand in front of him and Gabe stepped over to shake it. Angel did the same.
“ Thank you for coming,” Ethan said. “Please, I want to help any way I can. I can’t believe Livie is dead.” The skin on his face looked blotchy red, and his eyes were watery. It looked like he’d taken the news hard.
Angel realized God must have been a woman after she saw the violinist for the first time. Only a woman would know how to create such perfection in the opposite sex. Ethan Chandler was the most beautiful man Angel had ever seen.
“You left messages for Olivia Davenport on the night she died,” she began. “Tell me about your plans for the evening.”
“ We had dinner reservations at Amandine’s on Halsted Street for eight o’clock, but Livie…she never showed.” Ethan’s lower lip trembled, and he visibly shook as he told them about his plans to meet Olivia and how she never answered his calls. When he was done, he said, “Oh my, God. Was she already dead…when I called?”
Rachel Blevins touched his chest and stroked fingers down his arm. He accepted her gesture without flinching. Ethan might not have been surprised by the intimacy, but Angel was. Without the ability to communicate to a blind man with a sympathetic facial expression, perhaps the publicist had only meant to send a message of concern to him in the only way she could.
Or maybe the woman’s touch carried another meaning.
“ We’re piecing together a timeline of her activities before she died. That’s why we’re here,” Angel said, avoiding an answer to his question. “Did Olivia give you any reason to expect her to be late to the restaurant? Had she run errands or did she meet anyone beforehand?”
“ No, not that I know of. She’d never been very punctual, but to not show up… “ He wiped a hand over his face. “She never told me anything about her plans for yesterday, but I could’ve been too distracted by rehearsals to ask.”
This time when Rachel touched his arm, Ethan clasped her hand in his, a show of affection that seemed natural between them.
“The news media is camped at the front entrance of the building, Ethan,” Rachel told him. “They’ll be looking for you. If you need to leave the building, call me, and we’ll use the same plan as we’ve done before. We can get in and out of this building without prying eyes.”
“ Great. A prisoner in my own home. Wonderful.” The violinist looked even more miserable.
“ I took the liberty of letting Harrison know what happened,” the publicist said. “He wants to see you later today.”
Ethan grimaced for a split second, enough to send Angel a clear message that something had triggered a reaction in him.
“Harrison? Who’s that?” Angel asked.
Rachel looked at Ethan before she replied, “Harrison Reeves. He’s Ethan’s agent.”
“ Okay. I can see clueing an agent in on something of this nature, but you don’t seem happy about that, Mr. Chandler. Why is that?”
Ethan shrugged. “He’s just a little…overbearing when it comes to…”
When he stopped, Rachel picked up the slack. “His agent has a hard time drawing the line between the business and personal affairs of his clients, that’s all. He has an overzealous nature when it comes to protecting Ethan’s interests.”
“ Reeves lives in Chicago?” Gabe asked.
“ Yeah, he does. If you need his contact information, I’m sure Rachel can get that for you,” Ethan offered, and his
Similar Books
