by Amy Brent
I heard my friend’s deep breathing on the phone in between her sniffles. What the fuck was going on to put her in this state? Destiny Smart was anything but a genius, but she did know when she’d been duped. Destiny had been my very first client. She’d come knocking on my door after I slipped a card to the crying woman in a restaurant after overhearing a conversation Destiny was having with her lunch date. I had sat with my back to Destiny in that restaurant while I listened to the woman cry over how she thought her husband was having an affair, and it had struck a delicate chord within me.
I slipped the woman my card, and she was in my office the next day.
When I got to digging, I found out the husband wasn’t just cheating with one woman. He was cheating with four different women at once. At first, the information was hard to swallow for Destiny. I comforted the woman in my office far longer than I was comfortable with, but two weeks later, she’d come storming back in with a lawyer. Destiny announced she was divorcing her husband and taking everything she was owed, and I gladly handed over my evidence.
Now, Destiny sat on enough cash to ride out the next few generations of her family. She’d put her ex-husband through the ringer, but now, it sounded like someone was doing the same to her. Now, it sounded like Destiny had gotten herself into more trouble. There was something in her voice I couldn’t place, however. Her words were a little more desperate and a little less grounded.
Like she still didn’t believe what was happening.
Oh, shit.
“Destiny? Are you there?” I asked.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m here.”
“What’s going on?” I asked. “Is it Mikey?”
“No, no, no. Mikey’s fine. At boarding school. I talked with him a few days ago. Did you know he turns sixteen this year?”
“Destiny, focus,” I said. “What’s going on?”
“You remember that guy I was telling you about? Alex?”
“The new one you’re dating,” I said. “Yeah, you’ve told me a bit.”
“I woke up this morning, and all my shit was gone.”
“You’ve been robbed?” I asked.
“No, no, no. Fuck. I—”
“Destiny. Take another deep breath. Then, just start at the beginning. Does this Alex have a last name?”
“Yes, Alex Ruth,” Destiny said.
“All right. Were you and this Alex Ruth together last night?”
“Yes. We’d come back from our third date, and we were, well, together. And in all the best ways. He made me feel beautiful and did all the dirty things I wanted him to—”
“How about you skip to the part where you woke up and your stuff was gone?” I asked.
“I got up this morning and went to go grab my purse. I thought I heard him say he was going to stay with me last night, but I figured I’d just dreamed it. I came hard last night and—”
“Destiny.”
“Sorry. Anyway, I went to go get my purse so I could pick up some breakfast, and everything was gone.”
“What do you mean everything?” I asked.
“Everything. My money. My credit cards. He took everything from me. I checked my credit card accounts, and I’ve got thousands of dollars of ATM withdrawals on them. He’s maxed out my fucking credit cards, Olivia.”
I began jotting down all this information as Destiny started crying again. I took down his name, what he’d taken, and the events she cared to describe leading up to the event. I jotted down a few theories that were already coming to mind as well as a list of information I’d need to pull on him, but I needed a few more tidbits of information.
“Destiny? Do you have anything else on him? A birthdate? A phone number? An address? Anything like that?”
“I’ve got his phone number, but I don’t have anything else other than his name and what he looked like.”
“Good, I’ll take both,” I said.
“Does this mean I can hire you?” Destiny asked.
“The moment you told me what he took, it wasn’t even a question. I’m clearing a spot for you in my schedule, Destiny.”
“Thank you so much, Olivia. You’re the best.”
I jotted down his phone number, along with what he looked like. About six feet tall, muscular but not lean. Platinum blond hair with gray eyes. A striking smile with gleaming white teeth and milky white skin.
“Did he have any roots?” I asked.
“What?”
“In his hair. You said it was platinum blond, but then you said he had gray eyes.”
“Yeah? So?”
“It’s just an odd combination of traits,” I said. “It would take two individuals with those exact same recessive traits to even have a chance of creating a child with those features. Did you see any roots growing out in his hair that might suggest an alternative color of hair?”
“Not that I can remember, no,” she said. “And I’d know. I did a lot of tugging on that hair over the weeks.”
“All right, Destiny. We can cut it with those comments. Is there anything else you can think of that might be of use to me?”
“Not at the moment, but I’ll call you if I think of anything,” Destiny said.
“All right. I’m gonna get on this. I should have a bit of news in the next couple of hours with just a few phone calls. In the meantime, go online and put a hold on your credit cards. Then, call the companies and explain to them the issue. See what you’ve got in terms of protection. I’ll call you in a couple hours.”
“Thank you so much, Olivia. I’ll call them right now.”
I hung up the phone and immediately began my work. A simple internet search didn’t bring up any Alex Ruths in the immediate area, and even when I expanded my search, I couldn’t find any in the surrounding states.
All right. So, we got a fake name.
I picked up the phone and dialed the phone number Destiny gave me, but the monotone voice on the end said the phone line had been disconnected. I did one last search on some software I had for a man with the features Destiny described. But the few pages the software pulled up didn’t have men that quite matched the appearance. Yellowed teeth were set off to the side as well as men whose hair was sandy blond instead of platinum. Some guys who thought they had gray eyes really had blue eyes, and other men who had distinguishing features I jotted down to ask Destiny about.
Then, after my search, I picked up the phone and called her back.
“Olivia?”
“Destiny, I have a few questions. Ready?”
“Shoot,” she said.
“Did the guy in question have a mole on the left side of his jawline?” I asked.
“What?” Destiny asked. “No. Why would you ask that?”
“Just a few more. What about a birthmark? Any indication of one running down his neck?”
“No,” she said.
“Missing teeth?”
“Hell, no.”
“Overbite?” I asked.
“What the hell are you asking me all this for?”
“Did the man have an overbite, Destiny?” I pressed.
“No. Any more idiotic questions?”
“Just one,” I said. “Are you sure the man’s eyes were gray and not blue?”
“Positive,” Destiny said. “They were gray as the thunderous sky before an afternoon rain shower.”
“A simple yes would’ve been fine.”
“I figured since you were spouting crazy shit, I could, too. I called the credit card companies, and they’re willing to work with me, provided we can prove what’s going on. So that’s a thing.”
“I figured,” I said. “I’ll find this guy. Don’t worry.”
“Oh, I know you can. I also found something on my floor. I was looking around for my ring, and I found it underneath a bed with something that looks like a business card.”
“Can you send me a picture of the card to my cell?” I asked.
“Already done it. Your phone should be ringing now.”
My phone li
t up beside me, and I picked it up to view the image. The card was tattered, to say the least, but the writing on it was legible. It was a professional business card on woven cardstock, which wasn’t cheap. They weren’t the kind you simply ordered online, which meant the profession on the card was probably a fake, too.
“Wesley Fox, Mixologist Beach Bum Bar. Malibu, California,” I read aloud.
“Is this guy’s name not ‘Alex Ruth’?” Destiny asked.
“Not if this is his card,” I said. “Alex Ruth isn’t even someone who exists in the surrounding states, much less the man you slept with last night. And once I entered in the information you gave me for Alex’s physical attributes, it pulled up only a few men in the state with those same looks. None of them fit exactly what you gave me, Destiny.”
“You mean to tell me I slept with a man last night whose name I didn’t know and who didn’t actually look like what I thought he did?”
“It’s why I asked about his roots growing out,” I said. “I don’t want to jump to conclusions or start ruling theories out yet, but I just wanted to let you know that whoever you were with last night wasn’t who you thought he was.”
Destiny sniffled on the other end of the line, and it broke my heart. Sure, Destiny might not have been my best friend, but we were close enough. Men fucking around with women in my city wasn’t something I was going to put up with, which only made me more determined to figure out what the hell was going on. While Destiny was crying on the phone, I made a call on my cell phone to put in a favor with someone down at the local precinct.
A quick search on their end turned up information that was helpful but useless.
“Destiny?” I asked.
“Yeah?”
“Turns out the number you gave me was registered to an Alex Ruth. It gets us nowhere, but it does confirm something going on in my head.”
“Which is?” Destiny asked.
“Whoever this was had the intention of taking your stuff,” I said. “I don’t have any proof to think you were stalked, but I do think you were targeted because of your money.”
“You think this man singled me out just so he could rob me?” she asked.
“I’m not sure what I think. All I know is that registering that number under his fake name means the phone was probably a burner. As in, the phone was meant only for you to have that number. It’s probably sitting in a trash can somewhere outside your home.”
“Which does us no good because the fucking trash came this morning,” Destiny said.
“Don’t worry, all right? I’m gonna get you answers, and I’m gonna get you proof.”
“I know you will, Olivia. I just feel weirded out.”
“Can you do me a favor?” I asked.
“Anything, if it’ll help.”
“Put that card you found in a plastic bag and bring it over to my office,” I said.
“Done and done. I’m headed that way now.”
“I’ll see you when you get here,” I said.
“Olivia?”
“Yeah?”
“You think Wesley Fox is his actual name?” she asked.
“Honestly? I’m not sure. Something tells me it’s not, but it could be that it’s his name but his profession is wrong.”
“Why do you think that?” Destiny asked.
“The card you’re holding is woven. Woven cardstock is expensive, but the thickness, from what I could see in the picture, indicates those business cards have to be a specialty order. Fifty of them in a box would easily cost four-hundred dollars, and I highly doubt a bartender in the middle of Malibu could afford those, much less have any need for them.”
“You’re incredible, you know that?” Destiny asked.
“Just get that card to me,” I said. “I’m gonna chase it once you get here.”
“What does that mean?”
“Well, we’ve got a name and a place of work,” I said. “I’m simply gonna go down there and see what I can find.”
“Just be safe, all right?”
“Destiny, I’m always safe.”
Chapter 3
Wesley
“All right,” Chad said. “I know that look. Spill, dude.”
“Her pussy was too tight to even describe,” I said.
“Whoa, Wesley! Jumping right out of the gate, I see. Not gonna even start with how this all started?”
“I met her at a club,” I said. “You know, I didn’t think I’d be into all the women who look fake and plastic, but it was a fucking good look on her.”
“Big tits?” Chad asked.
“Yep.”
“Massive lips?”
“They felt good around my cock, too,” I said.
“Slim stomach that was probably tucked after having a kid?”
“How’d you know she had a kid?” I asked.
“You’ve got this weird thing for cougars, dude. Don’t think I don’t notice you eyeing all the lonely single moms around this joint.”
“Everyone’s got their thing,” I said, shrugging. “And lonely moms need loving, too. Especially with the dick I’m packing.”
“I’ll take your word for it on that subject,” Chad said, grinning.
“Anyway, it was a nice few weeks, but shit like that doesn’t last,” I said. “I’m not a kid person, and they’re not looking for dads for their kids. It’s the perfect setup, some decent dates, a bit of conversation, some explosive sex, and you’re good to go.”
“She fell in love with you, didn’t she?”
“They always fucking do,” I said. “It’s weird. They want the no-strings-attached thing until they wake up the next morning. It’s why I try not to stay over. Then, it’s easier to get away from them when you know they’re getting attached. Don’t set the precedence of staying with them overnight, and they won’t expect it from you.”
“Sounds like the philosophy of a very lonely man,” Chad said.
“Says the guy who’s probably not getting enough pussy in his life, anyway,” I said.
“I have no idea what you get out of that,” Chad said. “Making women fall in love with you. I mean, you’re not getting anything out of the deal.”
“Yes, I am. Some good fucking sex.”
“I’m sure it’s not good fucking sex all the time,” he said.
“It is when they’re lonely and willing to be coached,” I said.
“Is that why you stayed so long this time? Because she had to be coached?”
“Nope,” I said. “I stayed with her so long this time because she had vaginal reconstruction surgery. I swear to hell and back, I slipped inside her once and thought I’d blow my load all over the place.”
“Nice, but gross,” he said. “You know I’m your boss, right?”
“You know you’re also my best friend, right?” I asked.
“You mean to tell me I own this bar and that doesn’t garner me enough respect when you’re clocked in to just shut your mouth until we can get a proper drink on our break?”
“Wait,” I said. “Since when did we get to drink on breaks?”
“Since now,” Chad said. “I’m the owner. I do what I want. Let’s save this talk for when we’re having a drink. Then you can give me the juicy details.”
“Surprised you can’t smell them,” I said, smirking.
“Dude, if you haven’t showered, I’m fucking throwing you into the damn ocean before your shift.”
“Calm down,” I said, grinning. “I showered. I’m good. Just a joke. Lighten up, boss man.”
“You know you’re a dick for doing all this shit to women, right?” Chad asked.
“No woman has ever treated me decently. What the fuck do I owe them anything for?”
“These women haven’t treated you like shit,” Chad said. “That’s the difference.”
“Not to me,” I said.
“Dude, your mother fucked you over,” he said. “I get it. But you’re playing with other women’s hearts. Women who are mothers. Who are probably
better mothers than your mother was. It’s fucked up.”
“Can we stop saying the word ‘mother,’ please?” I asked.
“All I’m saying is, it’s dickish of you to take out your anger toward your own mother on someone else’s,” Chad said.
“Thanks, Dr. Phil,” I said.
“Plus, you’re a good-looking guy. I’m sure there’s one woman out there who’s at least treated you somewhat decent.”
Maybe just one.
“Not a fucking one,” I said.
“Whatever,” Chad said, smirking. “Anyway, clock in. You’re officially five minutes late. Quit yappin’ with your friends and get to work.”
“Tell the boss man to try not to fire me between now and the time I can get to the register,” I said.
I clocked in and got to work. Order after order went out for people who were coming up to the bar and ordering drinks. I pocketed the wads of cash thrown down onto the bar as tips and then chuckled at how it was merely pocket change. My mouth began to salivate at the wads of cash I’d stored away in my apartment before coming to work. I had to wait until I knew the trail was cold before I could deposit the money, so I put it all in a safe underneath a floorboard in my kitchen pantry before I came out to work.