Tina Whittle_Tai Randall Mystery 01 by The Dangerous Edge of Things Read Free Book Online

complex where Eliza Compton had worked.
    An interesting development, this.
    I took his hand. “Tai Randolph. Pleased to meet you.”
    “Same here.” He gave me the up and down. “You must be new.”
    “You could say that.”
    “So I can leave these with you then?”
    He pulled a stack of photographs from an envelope and handed them to me. The top one gave me goosebumps. It was Eliza, a black and white headshot. She looked serious and pleasant; only the tilt of her head revealed the playfulness I’d glimpsed on Facebook.
    “That one’s for the press release,” Mark said. “The rest are for Trey, that one especially.”
    He pointed to the second photograph in the stack, a glossy 5X7, the kind of party shot popular with society magazines. I recognized Mark Beaumont, looking tan and fit, in a handshake with Trey, looking pale and stiff. An auburn-haired beauty I didn’t recognize stood at Trey’s side, her hand resting on his shoulder, and there was a woman next to Mark too, a dark-haired exotic creature.
    Mark tapped it approvingly. “Not bad, huh? This new guy took them. Trey doesn’t usually do photos, but look, he’s almost smiling in this one.”
    Mark was wrong—Trey was nowhere near smiling. There was something subtly alert in his expression, however, and I suspected it had to do with the redhead at his side. She was barely five feet tall, as delicate and exquisite as a music-box ballerina, and unlike the others in the photo, she had no interest in the camera. She had eyes only for Trey.
    I nodded like I knew what Mark was talking about. “And this was taken at the…”
    “Blue Knights Mardi Gras Ball.”
    Mardi Gras. Tuesday night. Three nights ago.
    “It was Charley’s first time chairing the event, but she did great. The police chief himself said so.”
    Charley Beaumont, the black-haired woman in the photo. Mark’s wife. I paged through the rest of the shots. The framing was always askew and the subjects looked startled, as if the photographer had bounded at them from behind a bush. There were more of the Beaumonts, including a shot of them with the mayor, Mardi Gras masks in hand. And then, sudden and startling—
    My brother.
    He looked every inch the society guy—black tux, champagne glass, an open smile on his face. Utterly at ease, even with strands of purple and gold beads around his neck. When had he gotten this life, these friends? When had I stopped knowing anything about him?
    As I studied the photograph, Charley Beaumont herself came through the door. I recognized her even before she slinked her arm through Mark’s elbow. Sharp-featured with high maintenance hair, she looked older in person, pushing forty easily. A red sheath dress skimmed her size-two frame.
    Mark waved in my direction. “Meet Trey’s new assistant.”
    I didn’t correct him, just stuck out my hand. “Tai Randolph.”
    Charley took it silently, still holding onto Mark. She had no grip whatsoever, and I felt self-conscious, like someone had handed me a Ming vase. Her eyes dipped to the photos in my hand. “What’s that?”
    Mark explained. “It’s the shots that new photographer sent over, from Mardi Gras.”
    “When did you get these?”
    “Wednesday morning.”
    “Let me see.”
    I handed the photos over. She took them to Trey’s desk and fanned them across the surface, like a magician performing a card trick. “I didn’t like that photographer. He kept lunging at people.”
    “So don’t hire him again.”
    “I didn’t hire him this time.” She restacked the photographs into a sloppy pile. “I just spoke with Landon. He’s not going to make the meeting.”
    So I wasn’t the only one Landon had stood up. I wondered what he was up to, and didn’t like any of the answers that sprung to mind.
    Mark’s expression sobered. “I’m sure you’ve heard about the young girl who was murdered. She was one of our employees at Beau Elan, our newest development. She was a tenant too, a fine person.