The Life Thief

by Cherie Mitchell

  She was exhausted. If she didn’t have such a busy day scheduled she’d call Sasha and tell her she wasn’t coming in. “Someone came in,” she said tiredly. “They didn’t exactly break in because I forgot to lock the door. They came in when I was asleep, they lit candles, and they left a note on the door.”

  He stared at her. “You’re kidding, right? Who would break in to anyone’s house just to light candles and leave a note? No one does that, Becky.”

  “I have no idea but it creeps me out. In some ways it would’ve been better if they broke in and ransacked the place like any common criminal would have done.”

  “So nothing was stolen?”

  “Not that I can tell.”

  “What did the note say?”

  “I heart Becky Monroe,” she said tiredly. “The police are phoning you today so make sure you don’t ignore their call like you ignored mine.”

  “Phoning me? Why? Do they think I had something to do with it?”

  “There’s no need to sound so outraged. They want to talk to you about that man who accosted us outside the restaurant the other night. I don’t know why you’re being so aggressive.” Why hadn’t he wrapped his arms around her and told her that everything would be okay? Couldn’t he see that was all she needed?

  His face twisted in anger. “Why did you tell them about that? The police don’t need to know everything about us.”

  “I wasn’t aware it needed to be hidden.”

  He raked his hand through his hair. “It’s not that it needs to be hidden. Don’t take my words out of context. Becks, you know how important my reputation is to me at the moment. I can’t have this type of shit making it to the newspapers with the elections coming up.”

  “This type of shit?!” Her last word was a screech and she hated herself for it. “I could’ve been raped and murdered and you wouldn’t have known a thing about it until it was too late. Thanks for your concern. Some loving boyfriend you are.” She flung herself down to the entranceway and out the front door, aware she’d left her folder on the counter but unwilling to go back to get it. How dare he? How self-centered could anyone be?

  “Becky.” He ran out after her, finally pushed into action by her furious departure. “You know I was concerned about you. Why are you acting like this?”

  She spun around as she reached her car, snarling at him like some wild, feral animal. “Why am I acting like this?” she mimicked. “I don’t know, Michael. You tell me.”

  He stopped a few feet away from her and held out his hands helplessly. “I’m sorry. I should have thought before I spoke. Has this brought back the whole Tony Everett episode?”

  She focused on steadying her breathing. Her palms were sweating so much she thought the strap of her bag might slip out of her hand. She had no hope of grasping the door handle and opening the door. Why was he being so awful when she needed him so much? “The Tony Everett episode never really went away. He’s always there, always at the back of my mind.”

  “I’m an idiot. Can you forgive me?” He smiled then, that adorable smile that had always won her over in the past. So why did she feel less trusting of its charms now, at this precise moment when he should’ve been everything she needed?

  She hesitated before replying, playing for time while she tried to line up all of her emotions like neat ducks in a row. “Michael, I needed you here with me last night. I was terrified.”

  Finally, he pulled her into his arms but was it too little, too late? “Nothing bad happened,” he murmured into her hair. “Everything will be okay.”

  “I have to go to work.” She extricated herself from his arms and wiped her palms down her skirt. “Are you home tonight?”

  “Of course I’m home tonight. Where else would I be?” He opened the door for her. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  She gave him a tight smile as she turned the key in the ignition. “Fine. Bye, Michael.”

  Traffic was slow again this morning. It gave her too much time to think. And despite telling Michael that the Tony Everett episode had never gone away, the break in had brought it all back in stark, terrifying detail. Becky was just seventeen when she met Tony, an older bad boy drop out with a soiled reputation and a grin that made her heart do a loop. Against everyone’s advice, and without her parents’ knowledge, Becky began dating him.

  Becky’s life started to spiral out of control not long after she became Tony’s girl. As she’d told Michael, she’d never smoked weed but Tony had introduced her to other drugs. Harder drugs. He also began to control and manipulate her, exploding into a rage if she so much as looked at another guy. Formerly a confident, outgoing student, Becky’s grades began to fail and she stopped taking care of her appearance. Her worried parents took her to a counsellor but she stubbornly refused to listen to any of their well-meaning advice. As far as she was concerned, she was adult enough to make her own decisions and her adored Tony was all she wanted or needed.

  It all came to a head one rainy Saturday night at a party with a group of some of Tony’s loser friends. Tony, out of his mind on a cocktail of drugs, allowed his jealously to get the better of him when Becky smiled at some guy who passed her a drink. After loudly accusing Becky of cheating on him, Tony jumped on her and began beating her with his fists and kicking her with his heavy boots. Taken by surprise and a lot smaller than her boyfriend, Becky didn’t have a chance. By the time his friends managed to pull him off her, she was unconscious and bleeding and the cops were on the way.

  She’d spent several weeks in hospital after that, recovering from a broken elbow, cracked ribs, and a bruised spleen along with a multitude of minor injuries. But it was the psychological damage that would have the worst and most ongoing effect, for at that stage a heartbroken Becky still believed she was in love with Tony.

  She took her hand off the wheel and flipped her wrist over to look at her cat tattoo. The scars beneath the design were self-inflicted and her attempt to end her life had nearly succeeded. Thinking that her world had ended when Tony was sent to prison for assault, Becky had shut herself into her room and attacked her wrist with a razor blade. It was only her father’s quick thinking, and an uncanny sense that his beloved daughter was in trouble, that had saved her.

  She sighed as she turned off the street and into the parking lot behind the office. She’d pulled through that awful time but it had taken a lot of work and a lot of support from her family and friends. She must never stop reminding herself of how far she’d come in creating the life she deserved.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Alice phoned in to say she had a doctor’s appointment and she wouldn’t be in until later. Becky didn’t mind – she’d never been the slave driver type of employer and she understood that a person’s job was only a small part of their life. Becky made hand signals to Sasha, who was busy on the phone, before ducking out to buy them each a takeaway coffee. She needed the extra burst of caffeine today after the trauma of last night. Sasha had been horrified to hear the story, rebuking Becky for not calling her, and she’d offered for Becky to stay with her and Chad if Michael ever stayed away for the night again. Sasha too mentioned Tony and she said she hoped the break in hadn’t raised any old, bad memories. Becky told her she was fine, she’d escaped unharmed, and it was her own stupid fault for not locking her door.

  She was juggling the takeaway cups in her hands as she tried to open the door to leave the coffee shop when someone grabbed the door away from her and held it open. She looked at the woman to smile her thanks and saw it was June from the retreat. “June! How are you?”

  “Oh hi, Becky.” June didn’t sound anywhere near as loud and rambunctious without her support team of book clubbers to egg her on. She stepped back, away from the door, and Becky walked out on the street to stand with her. “Do you work near here, June?”

  “Yes, just down the road.” June peered at her closely. “You look tired. Didn’t the retreat rejuvenate you as it was supposed to?”

  “I had a sleepless ni
ght,” Becky was tired of talking about the intruder by now and decided to gloss over it. “And the retreat feels as if it never happened. I came back to a big workload and it hasn’t slowed down since.”

  June grimaced. “I know the feeling. The girls and I are already planning our next get away.”

  “Oh, you’ll never guess who we have working in our office as a temporary staff member. Remember Alice?”

  June’s expression grew cautious. “You offered her a job?”

  “No, I rang the employment agency and asked them to send me a girl for a couple weeks, just until we got on top of the backlog. I couldn’t believe it when Alice turned up. Isn’t that the oddest thing?”

  “Hmmm, what a coincidence.” June fiddled with the clasp of her handbag, looking over Becky’s shoulder as someone else left the coffee shop behind them. “Is she a good worker?”

  “Yes, she’s very efficient.”

  “And you trust her with your business affairs?”

  Becky stared at her in surprise. “She’s not exactly handling the business affairs. She has access to the client records because she’s doing the filing and she manages the office when Sasha and I aren’t there, but that’s about it. Why shouldn’t I trust her?”

  June chewed on the inside of her lip, as if she was hesitating as to whether she should say something but Becky already knew that June did not often hold back from speaking what was on her mind. “You know what they say; you have to make bad decisions in order to recognize the good ones,” she said finally. “Goodbye, Becky. Enjoy the rest of your day.” She walked into the shop and allowed the door to bang shut behind her, leaving Becky gazing curiously after her. Whatever did she mean by that? Was it yet another of the book ladies’ off-color comments that only they found amusing? Becky shrugged and walked away. June probably thought she was being funny but it wasn’t the same without her cronies around to cackle insanely over every word she uttered.

  Becky’s last appointment of the day canceled their meeting and rebooked for another time, which suited Becky perfectly. She’d had to drag herself through the last hour and all she wanted to do now was go home and collapse on the sofa. Preferably with a soft, cuddly blanket and a glass of wine.

  Sasha finished texting and put her phone face down on her desk. “Are you sure you’re okay going back to the house by yourself, Becks? I can follow you home if you like. You’ll probably feel strange walking in after what happened last night.”

  Alice looked up from where she was working at the filing cabinet. “What happened last night?”

  Becky exchanged a glance with Sasha. She hadn’t told Alice about the incident and for reasons she was unable to determine, she didn’t think she wanted to. “It’s nothing. Just a minor drama. You’re a sweetheart for offering, Sash. I’ll be fine, honestly. You have enough to do without wasting your time driving across town and back.” She glanced at the folders heaped on her friend’s desk. “How’s the Saunders’ sale going?”

  Sasha made a face. “It’s a bit of slog. He’s changed his mind again about how many showings he’s willing to have. He’s worried he’ll have rubberneckers trooping through the house but I told him has to let that idea go. I told him that we’ll screen potential buyers as well as we can before we allow them inside. I’m meeting him again later this evening.”

  “Good luck with that one. He seems to me to be someone who might not budge once he’s made a decision.”

  “You’ve got that right.” Sasha followed her to the door. “Are you sure you’re okay? I’d hate this to unravel you again.”

  “I’m absolutely okay. If I get home and feel unsafe, I promise I’ll call the police. Does that help?”

  Sasha narrowed her eyes at her. “Not much, but I know how stubborn you can be. All right, but if you do have to call the police, promise you’ll call me as soon as you hang up from them?”

  “I promise.”

  To Becky’s relief, Michael’s car was parked outside the house when she pulled into the driveway. He did care, after all. He’d called her twice during the day to check on her, too. Perhaps they could snuggle up together under that cuddly blanket and order in. Pizza would be the perfect, carby comfort food for tonight.

  Michael wrenched the front door open as she went to put her key in the lock. She stepped back, startled to see him glowering at her. “Michael! What’s wrong?”

  He thrust a handful of papers under her nose. “I’ve just opened the mail. Since when did you decide it was a good idea to go mad with the credit card?”

  She pushed the bills away, annoyed that he’d confronted her like this. “I earn good money and I don’t have to explain myself to you. Anyway, it’s not as if I went mad with it. Don’t over exaggerate.” She brushed past him and stepped into the house. “Thanks for the pleasant welcome home.”

  He followed her through to the kitchen. “It’s overdrawn, Becky. Well overdrawn. Hank Dobson called me from the bank today. What did I tell you about needing to watch my reputation at this crucial point?”

  She kicked her shoes off and dumped her briefcase and handbag on the floor. “Overdrawn? I don’t know how it could be. It must be a mistake. I have an automatic payment set up to clear the total each month.” She took the bill from him and sat it on the countertop. “What did Hank say?”

  “He said it was just a courtesy call but I was embarrassed that he had to make it in the first place.” He stabbed his finger at the total at the bottom of the last page. “Look! That’s a ridiculous amount of money for one month’s expenditure.”

  Becky gasped at the size of the figure. “That’s impossible! There’s no way I’ve spent that much. Aside from my week at the retreat, I’ve barely had time to go anywhere let alone spend huge amounts of money.” She flipped through the stack of pages. “These aren’t my charges.”

  “Well they certainly aren’t mine. Perhaps the same little fairy who flew into the house to light your candles has been playing with your credit card?”

  She gazed at him open-mouthed, appalled at his sarcasm. “Are you serious? Are you making fun of the break in now?”

  “No, I’m not making fun of it.” He turned away to pick up his wine glass from where it sat next to the stovetop. “But you do have to admit there have been some odd things happening. What’s with all of those charges? They have to have come from somewhere.”

  She went back to scanning through the bill. “Some of my favorite clothes shops are on here but I swear I haven’t bought any new clothes for weeks. The Milagro Theatre is here – that one is obviously a mistake, unless you’ve bought tickets to a show to surprise me?” The look on his face confirmed that he hadn’t and Becky turned over the next page. “Here’s Hellish Tattoos… wait. There’s another charge further down for the same amount. It’s obviously a double charge. It’s a bank error, Michael. It must be.” She flipped back to the first page. “Here’s the charge for Far Horizons and look! There’s a second charge, although the total is different. Something has gone haywire with the charges. They’ll fix it.”

  Michael looked at her doubtfully. “Hank didn’t seem to think that was the case when I spoke to him. He said double charges are highly unlikely.”

  “I’ll go and see him tomorrow.” She bent to get her phone out of her bag. “I’m going to ring Far Horizons now and talk to Marian. I’ll ask her if there’s any chance that she might have entered my payment twice. They were in a fluster when I was there with the double booking and I wouldn’t be surprised if they’d made other errors. She should be able to reverse it for me right away.”

  Michael watched her as she spoke to Lucy, the receptionist. Unfortunately, Lucy advised her that Marian’s father was ill and she’d left in a hurry. And no, Lucy had no access to the accounts in her absence. Becky shook her head at Michael as she hung up the phone. “No luck there. I’ll go into the bank tomorrow. Hank will sort it out.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Hank Dobson frowned at the computer screen as Becky waited for him
to go through the charges against their account. “As I said to Michael on the phone, I don’t think these are double ups, Becky. Each purchase has a different code against it and a different time stamp.” He spun around in his chair to face her. “Is there any chance someone has had access to your credit card?”

  “No, it’s always in my handbag and my handbag is always with me.” She tightened her grip on her handbag where it sat on her lap. “No one could take it without me noticing.”

  “Do you have it with you now? I’m sorry to have to ask you to check, but I want to cover all avenues.”

  Becky laughed lightly as she opened her wallet. “That would make me look foolish, wouldn’t it? Me sitting here telling you that no one has used my credit card when it was actually stolen weeks ago.” She pulled it out and waved it around triumphantly. “No, here it is.”

  He looked at her gravely. “Have you ever heard of identity theft?”

  “I’ve heard of it, yes. But what’s that got to do with me?” She frowned at him as she put her credit card away. “I still have my credit card, which means no one has stolen it.”

  “A thief doesn’t have to physically have your credit card in order to steal your identity. They can use the card number on its own. Full-scale identity theft includes stealing an individual’s social security number, financial details, and other personal details. It’s big business in the criminal world and an activity that we as a bank are constantly fighting against.” He sat forward in his chair again and began to type on his keyboard. “I’ll cancel that card immediately and we’ll issue you a new one.”

  “Do you think someone has been pretending to be me?” Her stomach clenched into a painful knot. She’d worked so hard to find herself again after Tony and the thought that someone else had carelessly taken her identity was sickening.

  “It looks like it. I’m sorry. I know it’s not a nice feeling.”