Page 48 of Justice for Daesha

Chapter 8

On Wednesday,Amos got another case assigned to him. Why did he always get the cases with the dirty politicians? Mack had told him one time that it was because he had such an air of decorum about himself, such calm deportment and classiness. To Amos, that translated to “nobody else wants to do it,” so it fell on him. He worked on it all day and was thankful he had her to go home to because he really needed her smile and her touch.

He hadn’t told Daesha about his visit to Benson, and he wasn’t going to tell her that he was going to visit Ainsley. Nothing was going to be said until he’d seen the last Kelso brother.

K-Fabuleuse’s headquarters and factory were in Georgetown. It had become a mecca for manufacturing ever since a major car manufacturer had moved there, and the once tiny town was growing by leaps and bounds. Sure enough, K-Fabuleuse, or K-Fab as people liked to call it, was situated near the automobile plant and a new brewery. Helluva combination, as far as Amos was concerned.

Chance’s building had been lush inside and out. Benson’s was showy on the inside, but utilitarian on the outside. He’d wondered what he’d find at Ainsley’s place.

“Dear god,” he whispered as he turned in the drive on Thursday morning. He’d never seen such a crazy-looking building in his life. The upper floors were larger than the lower ones, giving the building a weird, wedge-shaped appearance. Shades of blue and purple graced the huge mirrored windows, and the plantings around the building were mostly weeping willows or weeping cherries. There were a few flowering plants, but not many, and a lot of ornamental grasses. A huge statue of a shoe, stylized, stood in front of the door in a circular walk. One of the things he noticed was the small parking lot. Apparently Ainsley neither expected nor encouraged visitors.

After linking another button mic, he grabbed his messenger bag and made his way to the front door. Behind the big polished granite reception desk was a young woman, her asymmetrical, snow white hair hanging straight down in its sophisticated cut. As soon as he stepped up to the desk, she looked up from under fake lashes that had to be an inch long, and the long, cat’s-eye liner she had painted on made them look even longer. Her tone was chilly as she said, “Welcome to K-Fabuleuse. Do you have an appointment?”

“No. I’m KDCI AgentAmos Fletcher and I’m here to see AinsleyKelso.”

She shifted in her chair, a look of utter disdain on her face. “He just returned from being out of the country and doesn’t wish to see anyone.”

Amos managed to catch her gaze and hold it. “Miss, I don’t think you understand. I’m not asking to see Mr.Kelso. I’m telling you I’m going to see Mr.Kelso. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Your choice. But I’m an officer of the law, and I need to speak to Mr.Kelso.” He jacked one eyebrow up and ordered, “Make it happen.”

The eye roll she gave him made him want to lean across the desk and slap her. Boy, she was a bitch. She picked up the house phone and punched a couple of buttons, then said, “A, there’s a cop out here who’s insisting on talking to you.” He waited, but she just hung up the phone and never looked at him.

After a full minute, Amos asked, “Well?”

“Fuck, you’re an impatient little twat, aren’t you? He’ll be here in just a minute.”

Did she just call me a twat?Amos almost laughed. He’d been called a lot of things, but that was the first time he’d ever been called a twat. Wait until he told Mack about that! “You know, it’s a shame,” he said and winked at her. She scowled. “You’re not attractive enough to take a chance on being that disagreeable.”

Her eyes flew open wide. “What did you say to me?”

“You mean, what did the twat say to you? The truth. And if he’s not out here in fifteen seconds, I’m going in there.”

“Mr.Police Person!” a voice sang out from behind him. “What may I help you with?”

Amos spun and almost laughed. The guy standing there looked a lot like a young version of Liberace, his dark hair perfectly coiffed and with a lot more hairspray in it than most of the women Amos knew wore in theirs. He had on a cantaloupe-orange shirt and over it was a long, purple coat and purple pants that matched it. But the shoes were definitely K-Fabs. They were beautiful Italian leather, which was good, because the oddball didn’t have any socks on. There was jewelry dripping from him, all kinds of jewelry, and the next thing Amos noticed was the strong cologne he was wearing. “I take it you’re AinsleyKelso?” Extending his hand, he added, “I’m AgentAmos Fletcher, KDCI, and I’d like to talk to you for just a minute.”

Ainsley took his hand but barely squeezed it. “Why, yes! Certainly! And don’t mind Madrid over there,” he said, pointing to the girl. “She didn’t get laid last night and she’s sulking.”

“Am not.”

“Then why are you so disagreeable?”

The young woman smirked at him. “I’m always disagreeable. That’s why you hired me!”

“Oh, yes. That’s right. I did hire her because she was so disagreeable,” Ainsley whispered and took Amos’s arm. Amos didn’t really want the guy touching him, but he didn’t jerk his arm away, just held it out farther from his body. “So come on into my office and let’s talk.”

Beside one of the doors was a fixture, some kind of security device, and Amos watched as Ainsley leaned into it and rested his chin on a plate at the base. Once he was in place, he laid his hand on a plate by the door.Iris recognition and fingerprint reader. What in the hell is in there?Amos wondered. And when the door swung open, he was glad he’d already been exposed to the outlandishness of Ainsley.

The office was bizarre. An enormous Lucite platform sat in the back of the room, and the desk was on top of it. There was a sweeping staircase at either end of the platform, and underneath the whole thing was an enormous fish tank full of…Are those octopuses? Wait. Octopi? I have no idea. What the fuck?Shelves hung around the room and floated from the ceiling, suspended on cables, and on the wall the door occupied was a huge curved screen. Strange objets d’arte sat here and there, some on round pedestals with seating built around them. It was fascinating, fabulous, and bizarre. He felt like he’d dropped into a futuristic world. “So, Mr.Fletcher, have a seat. The room is absolutely full of cameras, so wherever you sit, I can see you to converse with you.”

“Um…” Amos looked around. Where the hell should he sit? There were no normal chairs anywhere. He had a mic to plant, but nowhere to plant it. Looking around, he pointed to one of the two conversation pits in the room. “Here?”

“That’s fine. Wherever. Would you like something to drink? I have a wonderful matcha that they’ll be serving in a few seconds.”

“Who is?” Before Amos could ask, a door opened at the side of the room and three people walked in. Two were women who looked surprisingly like Madrid out front, and the other was a man, who looked surprisingly like Madrid out front, haircut and all.Holy shit, Amos thought.What a nest of weirdos.They were carrying trays, and one woman carefully handed Ainsley a steaming mug while the other handed one to Amos. Its pungent fragrance slapped him in the face. He almost put the cup to his lips when one of the women scolded, “Noooo. A always goes first.”

“Thank you, my dear,” the eldest Kelso said, then took a sip. “Ahhhh. Perfection.” The two women turned to leave, and the man stepped in and laid a napkin across Ainsley’s lap, then did the same for Amos. He had to admit, he didn’t like that guy being that close to his junk. It creeped him out. As soon as they were all gone, Ainsley gave him a contrived smile. “Now, Mr.Fletcher, what is it that you want from me?”

Amos wanted to remind him that the correct term wasagent, but he didn’t bother. “I have this picture of DorindaBlackmon’s hand with a ring on it. And I realized that it’s a combination of the logos of all three companies the Kelso brothers own. So, tell me, who gave her that ring?”

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