Chapter Five

From his car window, Trenton surveyed Chase Confections’s gray cement structure that bore deep cracks in its foundation. Layers of paint couldn’t camouflage the fact that the building had lived long past its lifespan.

A short distance away on the river side of the strip, in front of a twelve-foot chain-link fence, stood the advertisement: Shaw Hotel and Casino Coming Soon. The Anacostia waterfront landscape was on its way to revitalization. Though a good bit of the area had been redeveloped, there were still those aged structures that remained.

Trenton exited the car. Large flowering potted plants flanked the spotless glass entrance in the otherwise derelict-looking façade.

The bell over the door musically chimed, announcing his entry. He froze. Deliciously sweet scents of strawberries and rich chocolate wafted in his nose, a perfectly blended aroma, instantly waking and taunting his taste buds. But what struck him by surprise most of all was how airy and welcoming the place felt. Bright morning sun beamed in through the large skylight above. Small fissures in the stark white stucco ceiling were cheered up by healthy potted ferns hanging in the left and right corners. The light-pine wood-laminate floor, though showing the scuff marks of foot traffic, held an immaculate luster.

Trenton’s head turned at the drop of a muffin that slipped from the hand of a patron seated to his left. As if on cue, a young man sporting a navy-blue bandanna tied like a sweatband around his head exited the swing door behind the counter with a broom and upright dustpan in hand. He quickly took care of the mess, then began sweeping an otherwise clean floor.

Patrons sat upon gray wooden chairs at bright white tables sipping coffee, some with electronic devices in hand. The decadent desserts on display within the fogged glass cases would cause anyone’s mouth to drool. From the marvelous elephant-shaped chocolate cake to the vanilla cream-filled miniature doves, the powdered-sugar-dusted star-shaped biscuits and a host of other pastries, the place was a feast for the sweet tooth. Everything about the shop—boutique—screamed class, the complete opposite of what Trenton had expected to find.

He approached the well-polished glass counter where a young lady stood at the register, donning a bright smile.

“Good morning. What can I get for you? Or do you have an order for pickup?” she asked.

The chime at the entrance caused him a momentary distraction. He turned to see two women enter, then turned back. Before he could respond to the smiling cashier, behind her another woman exited the swing door pushing a cart that carried a towering, five tier, sky-blue frosted cake with the Eiffel Tower crowning its center. Quaint, lifelike Paris street scenes circled the masterfully crafted design along each layer. If that hadn’t been enough of an awe, at the gray cobblestone street-like base of the cake, a man and woman sat at a café table with perfectly sculpted cups in hand.

“Good morning, Mrs. Mavis. I have your order right here,” was the comment made by the woman behind the cart, who wore a neatly draped white apron and clear plastic gloves. “Remember, it will need about three hours to fully thaw before it’s ready to serve,” she told the pair, who nodded.

“It’s perfect! Thank you,” one of the women said as she came forward. “You all did a wonderful job.”

“This was Kennedi’s project. She’s not in, but I’ll be sure to let her know you were pleased with how it turned out.”

“I’m more than pleased.” The woman leaned in close, studying the miniatures. “Wow, they look just like us. It brings me back to when my husband and I first met. He’s going to love it.”

“Sir, may I help you?”

Trenton pulled his gaze away from the artfully decorated cake to the cashier. “I was looking for Kennedi Chase.” He gestured a nod at the woman wearing the apron. “But I heard she’s not in.”

“No, she’s not. Can I take a message?”

“Do you expect—” He paused as the woman with the cake viper-locked hazel eyes on him. First in surprise, then narrow-eyed disdain settled upon her attractive, tawny-tan features.

She said a few words to the customers receiving the Paris cake, then came over to the counter. “Amy, would you mind assisting Mrs. Mavis to her car? Be sure to use the sturdy box.”

“Sure thing.” Amy trotted off, leaving the two of them facing one another.

“Good morning, I’m Trenton Shaw.”

There was a slight hesitation before she removed her gloves and accepted his outstretched hand. “Tabitha Seils, co-owner of Chase Confections.”

Trenton recalled Kennedi had mentioned she’d brought her friends into the business. “Miss Seils, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” The sentiment wasn’t returned. “I was hoping to speak with Miss Chase, but I heard you say she’s not in.”

“That’s correct.”

“Do you expect her in today?”

“She has other responsibilities and has a very busy schedule.” Blatant animosity registered in her tone.

“That cake I saw, it was remarkable.”

“Kennedi created it,” she said, chin raised. The chime at the entrance drew her attention, then she met his gaze once more. “I’ll let her know you stopped by.” She sent a smile to the man behind him, Trenton’s cue that their conversation had come to a close.

“Have a good day, Miss Seils.” A forced smile was her only reply, her position where he was concerned made clear. He turned, then pivoted back. “Do you ship?”

“Yes, express overnight on non-specialty orders. It takes at minimum three business days, as we make every item fresh.”

He pointed to the powdered sugar-dusted star-shaped pastries behind the glass on his right. “I’d like two dozen sent to this address.” Taking a slip of paper from the pad and the pen on the spotless counter, he jotted it down and then handed it to her with his credit card.

She glanced at the paper while ringing up his order. “It’ll likely go out tomorrow for arrival early morning on Wednesday.”

“Hey Tabitha, excuse me.” The young man pushing the broom came up to the counter. “Those two said they’re here to buy Kennedi’s motorcycle.”

Trenton turned to see a man and woman dressed in all-black leather. Tats covered their necks. They’d look threatening if it weren’t for the matching T-shirts with a picture of an infant stamped on their chests.

“It’s out back. Carlos, show them were it is,” Tabitha replied while handing Trenton his credit card.

Intrigued by all things Kennedi Chase, Trenton asked, “Kennedi rides a motorcycle?”

“You’re perceptive,” she sneered, then her features softened. “When she has time. Well, not anymore. Kennedi loved that bike.”

“May I ask why she sold it?” He could tell by the shift in her gaze to the patrons behind him that her patience with him teetered on a short cord.

“You do what you have to when you have to do it. Enjoy your day, Mr. Shaw.”

“You do the same.” Exiting, he circled around to the back of the building and found the tattooed couple loading the motorcycle onto the bed of their Ram truck. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” both greeted.

“Nice bike. May I ask what you paid for it?”

The pair looked at one another, then back at him. “Nin—” the lady started.

“Twelve,” the man cut in.

Trenton’s lip twitched. “I’ll give you fourteen.”

“You’ll give us fourteen for the bike? Make it twenty,” the man said.

“Fourteen.”

“Gil, take it.” The woman came forward. “You’ll give us fourteen grand just like that?”

“Do you have a pen?”

She rushed to the truck, dug around and then returned, handing the ballpoint over.

Trenton tore off a piece of his receipt, scribbled, then gave her the pen and scrap of paper. “If you take it to this location, you’ll receive a cashier’s check.”

On his way back to the front of the store, his cell phone rang. Pulling it from the inside pocket of his suit coat, he opened the line to his assistant as he folded his frame into the back seat of his idling car and his driver, Jackson, closed the door.

“Morning, Carol. How are you feeling?”

“Fat, and my feet are two sizes larger.”

“You’re pregnant. I believe that’s normal, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s what everybody keeps telling me. I sent to your email the data you wanted on Chase Investments. The company isn’t doing so hot.”

“That I already know.”

“There were two very large investments that went south. Hong Kong and Miami condos. Chase brokered the deals with investors, but Hong Kong went belly-up. A large bit of the funds disappeared on the Miami deal. Neither project met completion. Details of the transactions are in the data I sent you.”

Trenton scooped his iPad from the seat and pulled up his email. “Are you saying Chase personally kept the money?”

“That’s what it looks like from this end. Kennedy Chase has taken a leave of absence. He’s probably stretched out on a tropical island with his bags of cash,” she scoffed. “The Hong Kong deal didn’t look like a smart move. The property is in an area that has been hit twice by tsunamis. As for Miami, I don’t see why it didn’t happen other than the funds going MIA. Anyway, it’s all in the report. The proposal you wanted is attached as well. As for your calendar today, you have twelve messages, seven of which can be ignored. I’ve updated the others with voice notes. They’re waiting on your voice mail. You have a meeting at eleven with the contractor for the Wharf hotel-casino project.”

“I’m headed there now.”

“What the—You won’t believe this. Line two is ringing, and the name K. Avery Chase popped up on the display! Talk about coincidences. We speak of the man, and he calls.”

This was definitely a surprise. “It’s likely his daughter. We’ve met.” Trenton had expected Kennedi Chase would reach out to Vincent as she’d done in the past instead of himself directly after how things ended Friday night.

“You’re saying he has a daughter with the same name? That’s a new one.”

“Place me on hold and take the call.” Elevator music momentarily filled Trenton’s ears.

Carol returned on the line. “You’re right; it’s Miss Chase. She wants to meet with you at Chase Investments and said she’s available today at eleven. I assumed she was a level one priority, so I told her you can make it and confirmed you’d meet her there. I’ll move your appointment to two o’clock.”

“Thanks.” Carol was his right arm of seven years. Finding someone to temporarily fill her shoes when she went out on maternity leave would be no easy feat. “By the way, I ordered Justine a little something in apology for calling you so late and disturbing her sleep the other night.”

“That wasn’t necessary. I was awake. This kid kicks me nonstop. Trenton, you know how my wife is. Now she’s going to want to send you a gift to thank you for the gift.”

Trenton realized that point of fact as an afterthought when he’d made the purchase. “Before I forget, send a cashier’s check for fourteen K to Bob and tell him to expect within the hour a Yamaha V Star 950 in exchange.”

“You bought a motorcycle? When did you start riding?”

The purchase had been spontaneous to say the least. “It’s for someone else. Call or text me if there’s a need,” he said as he started reading through the data on his iPad.

“Got it. Only contact you if the place is on fire. Goodbye.”

She knew him well. Trenton disconnected.

Kennedi wanted a meeting. After the way she’d handled him—and handled him she had the other night—he should’ve anticipated it. He realized he’d have to be on his guard with this one and thought on that as he studied the documents, zooming in and out on the signature, swiping from page to page. A foul suspicion began to unfurl and take root.

I’ll be damned…