The Porn Identity

Chapter 8

            The next morning, I was up bright and early and ready to dive into this case. Manny was up with me since he had to get back to his place to get ready for work. I'd suggested he leave a couple of work suits for the night's he slept over, but he would still have to get home to feed and walk Bertie so que sera, sera. Anyway, after a little pre-dawn flirting, he was off, and I was plotting.

       While my morning tea was brewing, I started digging into more of Kelli Olson's background. Everything she'd told me was easily confirmed since she'd lived such a public life. After having to forcibly return her crown, the disgraced beauty queen had somehow managed to revamp her image, marry Spencer Olson, the current owner of Powers Trucking, own and operate several successful event halls, and winning a seat as the councilwoman for district 8.

       And all before she turned forty. Not too shabby.

       Both Spencer and Kelli's combined net worth put them in the same tax bracket as David Howell, so that definitely made Kelli a prime target for Noah. But why blackmail Kelli and not Spencer? He was the one who headed Powers Trucking, a regional truck company the sold and repaired everything from semis to buses to fire trucks and raked in hundreds of millions a year. Kelli's personal business endeavors had been to invest in a handful of swanky venues that hosted the elite's premier events from million-dollar weddings to million-dollar fundraisers. Her venue business was successful true, but not as much as Powers Trucking. Maybe he couldn't find any dirt on him—no. That was unlikely. He probably chose Kelli because he'd already built a 'working' relationship with her and felt more comfortable scamming her because of their previous rapport.

       I was hoping to take advantage of our rapport myself when I saw her today—if I saw her. She seemed like a busy woman. Showing up at one of her event halls was a gamble, and her and the hubby lived in a gated community with a guard booth and no way in but an invitation. Trying to head her off at City Hall was a good way to get my ass tased by security and calling would likely get me a brief talk with a secretary and the brush off.

       My best option then, I wagered, was a surprise attack to her southside office. That'll give me less chance to waste time trying to track or wait for her...

But first, I had to put in a few hours at Taste Teas.

       I had no doubt Pasha and Jackson could open without me, but it would be hard with the morning rush so most days I was there for opening if not closing. So, even though my mind was on murder, I unlocked Taste Teas personally and started prepping the days coffee. Today's special was a medium roast Colombian that was whole bean, so I had to grind it before I could brew it.

       Jackson and Pasha arrived right behind me and went to their usual duties. For Jackson that was straight to the kitchen to fire up the donut fryer, and turning scone, muffin, and cinnamon roll batter into edible pastries before I flipped the sign to open in a few hours. For Pasha that was helping me prep the morning's beverages, setting the chairs, changing the chalkboard menu, and restocking the condiments stand.

       After washing her hands, she flipped the stereo to some hippy folk shit and hummed along to Jim Croce while she wiped down the countertops. "Morning, Evie," she sang.

       "Morning." I said as I set down a container of lavender tea—today's tea special.

       The hour went by pretty quick. Before I knew it the coffee machines were loaded and ready, and most of the baked goods were sitting pretty in the bakery display.

       As I looked over everything, I realized that half the donuts weren't out yet. We were ten minutes until open and one of my regulars was already parked out front in his car, waiting. The hell was taking so long?