Armed and Fabulous (Lexi Graves Mysteries)

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Armed and Fabulous (Lexi Graves Mysteries) Page 22

by Camilla Chafer

Every policy needed an address and it stood to reason that the fake ones were empty. Even so, I didn't think it could be that simple. A fraudulent damage claim wouldn't pay out much money. The bigger payouts would be in burglaries or fire damage, but that would mean having paperwork falsified at the police and fire departments. Maybe realtors were being paid off so the properties could be used. I had a horrible feeling the insurance fraud ring was more widespread, and there were a lot more people involved, than I guessed. I wondered if Maddox already knew. I wondered what Solomon investigated when he wasn’t rescuing me and if he had any leads.

  Despite feeling like I was barely part of the investigation, I was looking forward to going home because I thought I might have something to work on with the notebook. I felt certain it was connected to the fraud somehow, and the particular addresses Lily noted had given me another idea. I might have found a reference point to work from.

  Halfway through my filing pile, Bob stuck his head around the door. "Adam is letting us all go early," he said, adding, "on account of Martin's death."

  "It was very sad."

  "Yeah, I'm devastated. I'm going to O'Grady's to drown my sorrows. Want to come?"

  "I think I'll just head home."

  "As you like. See you tomorrow." Bob nodded and ducked out.

  "Bright and early," I called after him cheerfully. I slid the filing on top of the cabinet, ready to pick up tomorrow. My work ethic might have bucked up lately, but I wasn't prepared to stay if I'd been given a free pass. Plus, I could almost certainly still claim the time on my timecard. After I got back to my desk, everyone else had already cleared out. I craned my head around to check Vincent's desk, worried that he might be hovering, ready to ambush me.

  "Don't worry. He's gone."

  I jumped at the sound of Maddox's voice. "I hate it when people sneak up on me."

  "Sorry. I'll give you a ride home, then I have some stuff to do."

  "Thanks."

  I decided not to tell Maddox about Lily's and my snooping. So far, it was just bits and pieces, not enough to go on. And okay, I was a little worried he was going to laugh at me.

  "Your brother got in touch with me," he said.

  "Garrett?"

  "Yep."

  "He said he would." I gave him a surreptitious once over for injuries and saw none. That was positive.

  "He's pretty mad."

  "I know."

  "He thinks I've put you in danger."

  "Have you?" It wasn't an accusation and I didn't think he was putting his career before my safety because I thought there was more to Maddox than just a career detective. I remembered what Garrett said about Maddox’s “puppy dog eyes.” Maddox struck me as a stand-up guy, but having it confirmed was fine by me.

  "Maybe. For my career? No." He looked sincere. He was breathing deeply like he wasn't sure if I believed him, but he wanted me to.

  I nodded my acceptance. "Good to know," I said, feeling relieved.

  He waited while I gathered my stuff and turned off the computer. We left the building and headed towards the parking lot. When we climbed in the car, Maddox reached into a compartment under the seat and pulled out his gun, strapping it to his waist. I thought about my own order for the SIG and said nothing. We easily slipped through the afternoon traffic, Maddox steering his car into the empty space in front of my building, now that Lily's Mini was in the shop. He shut the engine off. "You going to invite me up?" he asked. His eyes were smoky. Even if he asked for tea right now, it would probably sound filthy in my mind.

  "Sure. Come up."

  I let myself into my apartment and within a few steps, I knew something was wrong. I froze, causing Maddox to bump into me as I held up a hand. I looked around. My jackets on the coat rack by the door seemed rumpled, and my shoes, that I hadn't put away, were out of their neat rows.

  "Someone's been here," I said.

  Behind me, I heard a rustle as Maddox drew his gun and stepped past me. "Wait here," he said. He pushed the bathroom door open and scanned inside. Then he stepped into my bedroom, searching. From the doorway, I saw him drop to his knees and check under the bed. I cringed inwardly and hoped I hadn't kicked any used underwear there. I heard him open and close my closet doors, and held my breath, waiting for an assailant to jump out. Instead, Maddox closed the doors and stepped out, taking a cursory look into the kitchen before moving onto the living room. He walked around checking the windows, then opened the apartment door and peered at the lock.

  "It's all clear. But you're right. Someone's been here. See these scratches around the lock?" Maddox pointed to light scratches before shutting the door.

  I followed him into the living room and looked around. Someone had ransacked the room, but were careful about it. If I weren't such a neat freak, I might not have noticed the way the couch cushions were pulled out, or that the pillow zippers weren't quite zipped all the way up. I might not have noticed the drawer of the desk slightly out of its slot, or that my laptop wasn't square with the corners of the desk. But that wasn't what captured Maddox's attention. He was looking at the bunch of flowers on the table.

  "They left me flowers?" I squeaked. “Someone broke into my place and left flowers?”

  Maddox just stared at the yellow blooms. "You didn't have them before? Maybe Lily brought them up?"

  "She didn't say anything when I saw her earlier, but I guess it's possible."

  "Call her and ask."

  I did, keeping my fingers crossed while I asked her. Lily was in the gym and hadn't seen any flowers. Moreover, she left the house as soon as her car was towed and hadn't been home since.

  "That narrows the timeline a lot."

  "This is creepy," I said, entering my bedroom. I felt sick when I saw my underwear moved around in the drawer and the lid not quite back on my favorite perfume. I imagined the burglar poking through my things, a lascivious expression on his face, and I made a mental note to go lingerie shopping. “This is creepier than the dead flowers.”

  “Say what?”

  I explained and Maddox ran a hand through his hair, his face growing angrier. I skipped the before and after parts of that evening, along with the bits about Lily and I scaring ourselves stupid, obviously, and he didn’t ask.

  "I hate to say this, Lexi, but you can't stay here anymore," said Maddox, looking up from the flowers and fixing his attention on me as I returned to the living room, trying not to shake.

  "It could just be a random burglary," I protested.

  "You see anything missing?"

  I looked around. My television was still there, along with the DVD player. On my desk stood an iPod dock, with my iPod still in place. There was my laptop along with some loose change in a dish and my car keys; Lily had the spare set. They were the most valuable things in the apartment. My wallet with all my cards and cell phone were in my purse.

  "No," I conceded, "I don't."

  "You nearly got ran off the road last night, and someone's been inside your house. This isn’t the freakiest warning I’ve ever seen, but it’s creepy. If I were a betting man, I'd say someone had you under surveillance."

  "The killer?" I asked, gulping.

  Maddox nodded. "We knew it was a risk letting you carry on your life as normal, but obviously someone suspects you know something. Even if we keep you under a twenty-four hour watch, things can still go wrong."

  Double gulp. "What are you saying?"

  His voice dropped to a whisper. "We need to discuss putting you in a safe house."

  "Like witness protection?" I asked, just as quietly. My knees felt weak and I sat heavily onto the sofa. Witness protection was the one thing I wanted to avoid. Call me crazy, but I liked my life. Sure, maybe it wasn't an exciting, glamorous one, but I had an apartment I liked, a big family who loved me, and a job that I... could tolerate. I wasn't about to give all that fabulousness up for a life on the run.

  Maddox knelt beside me, his hands resting on my legs. "It won't be for long. Just a couple of weeks," he said softly
. "We'll catch them. Then everything goes back to normal. We do this all the time."

  "If you catch whoever is responsible for this," I said, because that was the stipulation Maddox should have included.

  "We're going to catch them," Maddox assured me. "But I'm not prepared to leave you as bait. I don't want to find you..."

  "Dead," I finished. Me neither.

  ~

  "The building is definitely being watched," said Maddox. He stood to one side of the window, looking out onto the street below. I had waited quietly for the past hour while he made phone calls, talking cryptically. "Don’t worry," he said to me.

  "Why would I worry, Adam? You're here." I didn't ask, Can you stay over? But I wanted to. I really wanted to. I didn’t want to leave my home, but I didn’t want to be alone in it either.

  Maddox shook his head. "I can't guarantee your safety here."

  A knock at the door interrupted us. I flopped backwards, my shoulders hunched, while Maddox went to answer it. After a moment, he returned with Solomon. Solomon held a small plastic bag, which he handed to Maddox. Maddox looked inside it, then at me, and I had a feeling I wasn't going to like what he had to say. But first, he put a finger to his lips as Solomon took out a black device and moved around the apartment.

  “It’s clean,” he said after a while.

  “Thought so, but can’t be too sure,” said Maddox.

  At least my thoughts about a bug hadn’t been totally wrong. Given that I’d forgotten about it pretty quick, I was glad my apartment was confirmed bug free. “What’s in the bag?” I asked.

  "You need a disguise."

  "Like a costume?" That wasn't so bad. I could do costumes.

  "Think of it as a makeover." Maddox held out the bag and I took it reluctantly, peeking inside. After a moment, I looked up and frowned, not quite believing what I was looking at. Maddox continued, "If we take out a pretty blonde, all they have to do is follow us, and we don't know what kind of manpower they have. If one of us walks out with a different woman, maybe we can throw them off. Your upstairs neighbor is a brunette."

  I didn’t know how Maddox knew that. I didn’t even know that.

  "You want me to dye my hair," I said flatly. I looked back in the bag and a tear pricked at my eye. Okay, call me vain, but I really loved my hair. It had been a boring, dark brown all through high school and college, and only a couple of years ago, I'd taken the plunge and bleached it a gorgeous, glossy blonde. I'd grown it out so it swung to mid-back, and, if I didn't say so myself, it was my crowning glory. And now it would all be gone.

  "You can fix it later," said Maddox. "After this is over."

  "I guess." But I knew I couldn't. It had taken too much work, too long and too many dollars to get my hair to look like this. Now my job was in jeopardy, I probably wouldn't be able to afford the disaster relief session with my hairdresser to get it this good again, or the upkeep either. Still, blonde or dead? The decision should be easy, but it was compounded by all the other horrible things over the past week. Combined with the murders, the creepy gifts, and the home invasion, it was all becoming a bit too much.

  I blinked back the tears as Maddox continued, "You'll need to pack a few clothes. A week's worth maybe. I'll take them out so it doesn't look suspicious."

  "Then you'll come back for me?"

  Maddox shook his head. "No, they probably already associate me with you. Solomon will take you out in an hour."

  I glanced over at Solomon. He leaned against the doorjamb, hands in pockets. He nodded, just a slight incline of his head. They had probably already discussed what would happen if it came to this. It should have reassured me that they had contingency plans. But it didn’t.

  "Okay," I said, the box of hair-coloring clutched in my hand. "I guess I'll pack and dye."

  Maddox flinched.

  I slid past Solomon and walked down the hallway to the bedroom. The lights were on, and someone, Maddox I suppose, had drawn the curtains. I opened my closet doors and stood in front of them, wondering what someone on the run would pack. That immediately discounted all my dresses and pretty shoes. I shoved jeans and tops and a couple of sweaters on the bed, adding underwear—with a grimace—socks and a pair of pajamas. Moving to the bathroom, I packed my travel bag with a few items of makeup, deodorant and my hairbrush, tucking them in the middle of the clothing. I left them all on my bed.

  Back in the bathroom, I pushed both doors closed and pulled the box of hair dye out of the bag, placing it on the sink. After a few deep, calming breaths I snapped the carton open and pulled out the instructions and the plastic gloves. It was now or never. I took one final look in the mirror, swung my blonde hair for the last time and got on with the job.

  First, I pulled my hair into a ponytail, and took out my scissors. Snip, snip, snip. Three inches of hair fell to the floor. I gathered it with my hands, brushing them off over the little plastic bin under the sink. Standing in front of the mirror, I pulled out the band and let my hair swing free. I pulled on the plastic gloves.

  Forty minutes later, and a new me reflected from the mirror. In place of the blonde was a glossy, dark brown, cut shorter and fuller. It framed my face and still swung past my shoulders. It seemed to enhance my coloring. My face looked paler, my eyes bluer, my lips more red. It lifted my spirits a little; actually, I didn't look too bad at all. Not blonde and pretty anymore, but still pretty. I felt slightly better.

  I scrubbed the last little blotches of dye from the tops of my ears and pulled out some nail polish remover. After a couple of minutes rubbing, my nails were plain and I cut them shorter, too. Next went my clothes. I switched the dress for black skinny jeans, a pale blue top and a zip-up, black sweatshirt, pulling on sneakers last.

  When I went back to the living room, both men turned to me and I stood there hesitantly, awaiting their verdict.

  "You look different," said Maddox. "I like it."

  "Better than the blonde?"

  "Yes, most definitely. You look sensational."

  I smiled, a little color rushing to my cheeks. "Thanks, Adam," I said. "I laid out everything I'll need on my bed. I wasn't sure if you wanted them in a bag or something else."

  "I'll take them now." He nodded to Solomon. "Wait close to an hour, then take Lexi to the safe house. I'll meet you there."

  Maddox moved over to me. Placing both hands on my shoulders, he looked down at me. "You'll be okay," he said. "Keep calm."

  "And carry on?" I asked, aping the slogan.

  "You bet."

  I wasn't sure what to do when Maddox left, so I got a soda from the refrigerator and offered Solomon one, but he declined. We watched television for a while, but I only stared at the box without really seeing any of it. All I could think about was what was going to happen next. It struck me that the most dangerous few minutes would be leaving the apartment and making our way to wherever Solomon's car was parked. There was every chance that my disguise was for nothing. I gulped.

  A hand landed on my thigh, making me realize my leg had been nervously jiggling up and down. I followed the hand, up the arm, to Solomon's face.

  "Don't worry," he said, his hand unmoving.

  "Easy for you to say."

  He shrugged. "We wouldn't move you like this if we didn't think it would be the easiest and safest way."

  "You really think it'll throw them?"

  "I think they're looking for a pretty blonde all alone, not a brunette going on a date," Solomon replied. "I don't think they're experienced; if they were, they would know we had already spotted them by now. So, yes, I think you'll be fine. This is just a precaution. Maybe they just want to see what you’re going to do, if you’re going to do something."

  I tried not to gulp when he said “date,” choosing to keep my face passive.

  “Why don’t you just arrest them?” I asked.

  “Because we still need the other gang members to lead us to the money. We don’t want to spook them.” Solomon checked his watch. "Time to go," he said. "Y
ou need anything else?"

  "Uh. My cell phone and wallet."

  "Leave the phone. It's traceable. And you won't need the wallet."

  "I guess I don't need anything then." I stood up, moving toward the light switch. But just as I reached for it, Solomon's hand closed over mine. I spun, stumbled, and planted my back against the wall for support as he stepped closer. For a moment, all I could feel was my heart hammering in my chest.

  "Leave the light on. We want it to look like you're staying home," said Solomon, his hand still on mine. With his free hand, he reached up and pushed a lock of hair behind my ear, resting his hand for a moment as my heart raced a little faster. His lips were inches from mine, and his eyes dark. At first, I thought he was going to kiss me. I felt my eyelids flutter and I licked my lips. "I like this." He twirled the lock around his fingers and leaned in. "Sexy," he whispered, his breath warm against my cheek. “I guess I can’t call you ‘Blondie’ anymore.”

  Thank God for small mercies, I thought as he pulled back and moved towards the door.

  I took a moment to compose myself, then grabbed my purse and followed him.

  Solomon took my keys and locked the door behind him as we stepped out of my apartment. The lights were on in the living room and kitchen, the curtains drawn, so it looked like I was in for the night. As we went downstairs, Solomon took my hand in his and I was surprised at how warm he felt. It was strangely comforting too. At the door, he pulled a cap out of his back pocket and mounted it on my head, tweaking the peak so it covered my forehead, but not my eyes. Outside, instead of taking my hand, he slung his arm around my shoulder and tucked me into his side, turning off to the right and walking a little way down the street. I nearly jumped when his car lights flashed ahead.

  "Relax," he said, leaning into me as he guided me towards the SUV, and not the Lexus I expected. "This is my car."

  When he deposited me into the passenger seat, I realized my teeth were chattering, not so much from cold, but fear. I hadn't seen anyone observing my apartment, even though I'd stolen glances here and there.

  "Where were they?" I asked Solomon when he slid in and started the engine.

 

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