“My camera footage?”
“I was robbed,” Margot said, knowing her statement would be dramatic, but could be the foot in the door she needed.
“Oh my goodness! That is terrible.” It looked as if Cassie was shaking. “Are you— Is the bakery— What happened?”
Margot quickly reassured the woman, explaining the thief had been after something specific. “I just want to see if your camera picked up the man at all. He was outside the shop for few minutes before coming in, I think.”
“Let’s go look. But don’t you think the police should see it?”
“Oh, of course,” Margot said, following the woman toward the back on the custom bamboo flooring. “I just want to make sure there’s something for them to see. They are so busy and I wouldn't want to call them down here for a false report.”
“That makes sense.” Cassie sounded distracted, as if she were thinking more about the thief than the predicament. “Let me pull up the footage.” She slid into a sleek, ergonomically correct desk chair and began typing on a split keyboard. Within moments, a program similar to Margot’s was called up and she typed in the timestamp.
“Let’s see,” Cassie said, biting her lip. “Three-forty-five?”
“Yes, let’s start with that.”
Cassie cued up the footage and pressed play. The static camera showed the front of Cassie’s door, but also had a good angle of Margot’s. The front of the bakery was empty at the selected time and the minutes began to tick by.
“Maybe forward it just a little?” Margot suggested.
“Of course.” Cassie pressed a key and the footage began to slide forward quickly. Soon, a dark shape entered the top of the screen.
“There,” Margot said. Cassie pressed the play button and the video slowed to normal motion. “That’s him.”
“Oh my,” Cassie said, visibly shuddering.
Margot watched as the man stepped up next to the door, peered in, then stepped to the side out of view from where Margot knew she’d been standing. Thankfully, he wasn’t watching her—something that would have made her even more uncomfortable. He leaned against the side of the building, in an almost perfect view of the camera, and pulled out his phone. He looked like he was checking messages, then he pulled out something else from his pocket. A pack of cigarettes.
“Ick,” Cassie said and Margot pressed her lips together to hide her smile. Of course health-conscious Cassie wouldn’t approve of smoking.
Then the man pulled out a pack of matches. “Is there a way to zoom in?”
“Um, I’m afraid not.”
Margot hadn’t thought so, her program didn’t allow that either, but she had a feeling it could be helpful to find out what was on those matches. They looked like they might belong to a hotel or bar and if that were nearby, perhaps they could find out where Russ Soto was hiding.
They continued to watch as he shoved the matches back in his pocket. He stood there, smoking for a few more minutes, then tossed his cigarette on the ground and stomped it out before turning toward the Pâtisserie. The next moment, he walked inside.
“Oh, Margot,” Cassie said, hand to her chest, “this is awful. That man— He stole from you? What are we supposed to do?”
“Don’t worry,” Margot said with a reassuring smile. “I’m—” She was about to say ‘engaged to a detective,’ but remembered that piece of news wasn’t yet public knowledge, so instead she said, “I’m going to call my…um, Detective Eastwood. He’ll either come or send someone to pick up the footage so they can analyze it.” And hopefully find out where those matches are from, she thought.
“Will I be safe?” The look of worry on Cassie’s soft features made Margot feel bad for involving the sweet woman.
“Don’t you worry. He’s long gone and got what he was looking for. You’ll be fine. Just, maybe don’t mention it to anyone.”
Cassie nodded, blonde curls bouncing. Margot said her good-byes and then went next door to the bakery, thinking that perhaps Cassie’s outdoor camera could be the key to catching the key-stealing culprit.
Assured by Adam that he was sending someone over to get the footage from Cassie, Margot slipped into her office with minimal interactions with Julia and Dexter. They were almost finished making the day’s pastries as well as the special orders they’d gotten in and would soon have the kitchen cleaned up.
Instead of helping like she normally would have, she retreated to her small office space to think. Adam had told her he hoped her idea panned out so they could find Russ and Ben, but Margot had a feeling that these two men were not working together. She couldn't substantiate it, though.
But it didn’t add up. Ben seemed like the type to work alone while it was obvious that Russ had worked with Frank and Terry in the past. Why come together now? And what had they taken from The Garber that was worth risking all of their lives? And even more, got one person killed.
She desperately wanted to know what Adam had found from contacting the police and The Garber again. It seemed odd to her that The Garber, with all of its fancy technology and stringent policies, hadn’t immediately offered up a list of what was stolen. But when she’d asked Adam about this, he hadn’t been able to answer her as to the reasoning behind all of it. It frustrated her, but she also knew it wasn’t her place. This was his case—as much as it was the police department’s in Granby Station.
Adam. His handsome face came to mind and she thought of how their plans had gotten derailed by the appearance of Ben and Bentley’s involvement with all that was going on. Protecting Bentley, both physically but also mentally, was a top priority for Margot. He had truly become like a father to her and she couldn’t stand to see him so broken up over his son’s involvement in all of this, but part of her wished he’d never received the letter from Lucy.
It was a selfish thought, but she imagined that she’d be wearing her engagement ring and celebrating her happy news with her dear friends. Instead, it was sitting in a little velvet box in a secret compartment in her office. The very same one that Julian had insisted she let him install so she could keep a few valuables there rather than at their house.
Biting her lip and checking the door, she leaned back in her chair and pressed lightly on the panel directly to her right. The spring-action made the panel pop out and she unlatched the metal door of the fireproof compartment. When it swung open, there, resting in the center of the mostly empty space, sat the velvet box.
One more quick glance to the door and she pulled it out, opening the top. Nestled between folds of velvet sat her beautiful engagement ring. It sparkled in the dim light coming from her desk lamp. The band was encrusted with small diamonds and supported a one-karat, princess-cut stone that was also surrounded by small diamonds. It took her breath away every time she saw it. And, even though she knew it was foolish, she wished she could wear it.
Sure, she’d have to take it off every morning when she made her pastries or worked with dough, but it just felt right on her finger. She plucked it out of the box and slid it on her finger, the cool smoothness of it feeling so right.
Then she held her hand out in front of her and admired it.
Engaged. She was engaged. Her smile blossomed, pulling the corners of her mouth taut. She couldn’t wait to share with the world that she would someday get to call herself Mrs. Margot Eastwood.
A twinge of sadness at leaving her Durand name behind made her smile slip. She would miss being Mrs. Durand. It had been such a wonderful time her life, but she also knew that changing her name wouldn’t truly affect who she was. The wedding was also a long ways off, especially seeing as they hadn’t even told anyone they were engaged.
She held out her hand again, rotating it back and forth to let the diamond catch the light. Just as she was about to put it back, the door burst open and Julia stood there, the phone in one hand and a frazzled expression on her face.
Margot saw the instant she went from frustration to surprise as her gaze took in the ring on Margot’s fin
ger.
No, no, no! Margot’s hand made a fist and she covered it with her other hand.
“What. Is. That?” Julia said. The volume of her words caused Margot to cringe and she leaned forward, yanking Julia into the office space.
Julia instinctively closed the door behind her. “You’d better tell me everything. Right now.”
Margot leaned back, looking back down at the ring still on her finger. How could she explain this away without telling her worker—and friend—the truth? She didn’t want to lie to her.
“You’d better promise me that you won’t say anything to anyone,” Margot began.
Julia nodded rapidly and Margot jumped in, telling the whole tale. As she did, the words came easier and faster and she realized she’d wanted to tell this story so badly. She’d been holding it inside and then gotten distracted by everything that had happened since the day Bentley called her up, but now she wanted nothing more than to tell Julia every little detail.
When she was done, Julia stood, shaking her head. “And he’s made you promise not to tell anyone? That stinks!”
“I know.” Margot absentmindedly twisted the ring around her finger. “I underrated. I mean, at first it was because of Les, but now I think he’s too distracted by the case. Maybe we both are?”
“I get it…but I don’t. I mean, you should be wearing that rock,” Julia said with a wink. “I know I’d want to tell everyone if—” She cut herself off and Margot caught the faint blush that tinted her cheeks.
“Is that something you’re thinking is in you and Dexter’s…uh, future?”
Julia looked up at the ceiling, trying to hide her smile. “I don’t know, Margot. I just…” She let out a delicate sigh. “He’s nothing like my ex—a fact that I love—but I'm worried. Is he really a good guy? Will he stay a good guy? I just can’t do that to Nick. I can’t bring a guy into his life and then have something bad happen.”
Margot knew that Julia spoke from a place of hurt and caution, but she wanted to reassure her. She knew Dexter and thought of him like a brother. Then again, it sounded like Julia had to come to her own conclusions about Dexter if she was ever going to fully trust him.
“But enough about me. What will you do about…this.” She motioned toward the ring.
With a light sigh, Margot slipped it off her finger and put it back in the box. The wall panel popped back into place and she’d wait until Julia had left to put the ring back, but for now, it was safer not on her finger.
“I’ll respect Adam’s wishes,” she finally said, “and then I’ll tell people when this is all over.”
“I’m sorry,” Julia said, concern etching her features.
“It’s really all right. I’m happy. We’re engaged and that’s all that matters. Telling people will come later.” She took one last look at the box and then looked back up at her friend. “Did you need me for something?”
“We just got a crazy order of religieuse for the morning and I was going to complain to you.” She gave a light laugh. “Looks like you are the one that should be complaining.”
“I'm fine.” Margot stood and rested her hand on Julia’s shoulder. “Really.” Just then, her phone began to vibrate and she shrugged. “Duty calls.”
“I’ll make sure we’re ready to go for tomorrow.”
Margot mouthed ‘thank you’ as she slid the bar across to answer. She’d been so distracted by the fact that her ring-box was still on her desk that she hadn’t bothered to check the caller ID.
“This is Margot,” she said automatically.
“Hello, Margot,” a calm, masculine voice said on the other end of the line. A hint of a southern drawl was present. “This is Ben Anderson. Meet me at Pauly’s tonight at ten and I’ll give you the answers that you need. Oh…” He paused briefly. “And come alone or you get nothing.”
Margot opened her mouth to reply, but the line went dead.
12
The scent of bait and fish permeated the already salty air. Margot pulled the collar of her coat tight at her neck and thought for the millionth time what a terrible decision she’d made to come alone tonight.
She’d sat for a full five minutes staring at her phone when Ben had hung up. The number had read as unknown, giving her no clues, and she’d considered calling Adam immediately, but then she’d remember Ben’s warning. If she didn’t come alone, she’d get no information, and somewhere deep down, she knew that Ben wouldn’t hurt her.
Pauly’s neon sign lit up the night before her, a beacon to either the truth or her demise. No, she couldn't think like that. She knew Adam would be mad, but hopefully, she’d have information to share that would help him get over the initial frustration at her headstrong tendencies.
The soft strains of a lonesome country singer drifted from the half-open door of the restaurant. If you could call it that. Pauly’s was more shack than anything else. It boasted local color and tried to pass itself off as an eating establishment by day, but at night, its true nature emerged as a seedy bar. Nestled between the bait and tackle shop and a boat rental agency, Pauly’s attracted part-time fishermen and those down on their luck.
Suppressing a wave of anxiety, Margot walked up the creaking steps and approached the door. Light spilled out along with Earth, Wind, & Fire’s Shining Star. The sound grew louder as she pulled the door open further and stepped inside. Her eyes adjusted to the dimness and she searched the almost-empty room.
Round tables with cracked vinyl seats littered the center of the room with a bar taking up the majority of the back wall. Wooden booths filled the other three walls. A few patrons looked up when she came in, but the bartender merely gave her a passing glance as he went about filling up pints and wiping down counters.
Then she noticed someone in the very back corner booth staring at her, a black cowboy hat sitting on the table next to him. The gardener from outside Bentley’s apartment. Felix Lynch aka Ben Anderson.
She made her way to the booth and slipped in across from him. He followed her with his eyes, but kept his head trained on the room. When she was seated, he scanned the room again before his gaze came back to rest on her.
“Thanks for joining me,” he said in the same calm voice, same hint of a Texas drawl, from the phone call. “And thanks for coming alone.”
She wanted to offer some pithy remark, but nothing came to mind. So far, they’d both honored their word—he was there at least—but that didn’t mean they’d continue to do so. Then again, there was something she wasn't going to tell him. She had her phone in one coat pocket, poised and ready to call the police, and a voice recorder in the other pocket. She wasn’t taking any chances.
“It’s nice to meet you in person, Margot.” His gaze held hers. “I know you’re a good friend of my father’s.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“And if you’re wondering, no. I haven’t spied on you. I’ve just asked ‘round a bit.”
This was just as concerning, but she wasn’t going to let him know that.
“And let’s just get this straight right off the bat.” He leaned forward and laced his fingers on the table in front of her. “I didn’t kill anyone.”
Margot picked up on his phrasing. He wasn’t just talking about Frank Harper, he was including Terry Guzman in that statement as well.
“Then who did?” she said, speaking for the first time.
“Russ Soto.”
She leaned back, the seat creaking as she did so. “Can you prove it?” And wasn’t that the million dollar question.
“Not yet, but I’m working on that.”
Her eyebrows narrowed. “What does that mean?”
“Off limits for the current conversation. Anyway.” His head tilted, as if assessing her. “What can you tell me about my father?”
It was her turn to frown. “You brought me here to talk about your father? For all I know, you’re a crazed killer who’s killed twice and might kill again. And no, your word doesn’t clear things up for me.” She waited to
see what he would say.
“I can’t provide you with anything more than my word.”
“That you weren’t working with Russ, Terry, and Frank at The Garber?”
He swallowed. “I was not working with them.”
“But you can’t prove that.”
“Look…” He leaned forward again, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “I was set up. I promise you that I had nothing to do with Frank’s murder, but it was set up to look like I did. There was a note left for me and I foolishly ignored my instincts and went to the room. I found the body there and did everything I could to get out of there quickly.”
“Which meant leaving where the camera would see you.”
“Exactly.” He took a quick scan of the room again.
“Why is Russ setting you up? At least give me that.”
Ben seemed to consider what she was saying and Margot was certain that he wouldn’t say anything, but then his shoulders slumped and he met her gaze.
“It was about five years ago,” he began.
Her hand trembled on the recording button, but she couldn’t press it. She knew better than to think any information she’d capture with it would be admissible in court, but still, she felt as if she were letting Adam down. Then again, she reasoned, she would tell him everything about her meeting with Ben. That would have to suffice.
“I was…working,” he said the word in a way that gave Margot the impression this work was anything but legal, “in Palm Beach at a hotel.”
Margot read between the lines: scam.
“It was an easy job—” The corner of his mouth tugged upward. “—and I thought I’d get out of there without any hassle.”
“But you didn't?” she offered when he hesitated.
“Not quite. Let’s just put it this way. I ran into a little issue by the name of Russ Soto.”
The pieces began to fall into place for Margot.
“I happened to be a better thie— Uh, better at my job than Russ is, and more discrete as well. Back then, I was also much more cocky.” Ben had the decency to look ashamed. “Rather than finish what I was doing and get out of there…I decided to pull a little prank.”
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