“You need to get out and about—it’ll make you feel better, I promise.” Flora looked her up and down. “Why don’t you just jump in the shower?”
Alice shook her head. “I said no. It’s sweet of you to want to help, but…” She sighed. There was nothing to be done. Ella was gone.
Flora’s eyes widened. Alice knew from experience that it would be only seconds before her lip began to tremble and a lone, tragic tear would roll down her cheek. “Look,” Alice added quickly, trying to preempt the guilt trip. “I’ll call you when I’m feeling better. Maybe we could do that spa thing you wanted.”
“No.”
Alice blinked.
“You’ve been hiding out here for days.” Flora folded her arms, looking at Alice with surprising determination. “I bet you’ve got a million messages on that phone of yours, and Stefan says that solicitor has been trying to get in touch.”
“I’ll get to it.” Alice shifted uneasily on the spot, defensive now.
“Oh, really?” Moving quickly to where Alice’s phone lay, discarded, on the couch, Flora dialed her voice mail and switched to speakerphone.
“Alice, sweetie, it’s me, Flora—”
“Ms. Love, this is Peter at Capital One—”
“Hi, I’m calling about your outstanding balance—”
“Aly! It’s Flora, call me!”
“Alice, this is Rodney, down at the bank. You haven’t been returning my calls—”
There were a dozen more. One by one, Flora clicked through the messages.
“I said I’d get to it!” Alice protested. “I’ve had a lot to deal with.”
“Right! And the first step to dealing is actually leaving the flat.” Flora tucked an arm through hers and steered her toward the bathroom. It occurred to Alice that if Flora was steering her anywhere at all, she must be in one sorry state.
“Come on.” Flora beamed gently at her. “You get in the tub and have a nice, invigorating shower. I know I always feel tons better after a scrub!”
Alice exhaled. Because foaming bath oil made everything right with the world. But Flora didn’t seem to be budging; she was bustling around the black-tiled room, assembling a towel and various fortifying, gloss-promoting products. And it had been a while since Alice had been near hot water…
With a sigh of defeat, she reached for the L’Occitane.
***
“There, now isn’t that better?” Flora pulled Alice gently out of the taxi and toward a paved square full of cafés and lunching office workers. Flora had dragged her down to Spitalfields for some reason, sleek office buildings looming above them and purposeful, efficient people at every turn.
“Why couldn’t we have just stayed near Cassie’s?” Alice mooched behind her. “There’s a diner down the road. I wouldn’t have even had to dress.”
“Because I picked the restaurant especially.” Flora trotted ahead, suspiciously eager. “And you know I’m gluten-, wheat-, and soy-free now for my detox!”
“Silly me. I forgot.”
Alice knew she sounded ungrateful—after all, Flora was doing her best to help—but as they crossed the square, it felt like every smiling face she passed was a personal insult. They were out enjoying their happy, solvent lives, full of purpose and direction, and friends who didn’t lie to them for months before disappearing with their entire life savings, and—Alice now remembered—their favorite blue cardigan they’d loaned them just the other week.
“Here we are,” Flora trilled, pushing Alice ahead of her as they neared a corner café, the tables outside adorned with neat white tablecloths that fluttered in the breeze. A waitress waltzed past bearing a delicious-looking sandwich, and Alice felt the first stirrings of an appetite.
She softened. “You’re right. This looks lovely,” she apologized, giving Flora a weak smile. “I’m sorry for being such a bitch.”
“It’s OK,” Flora told her. “You deserve to, after everything…” She trailed off, looking past Alice. “Oh, good, he’s already here.”
“He?” Alice turned, just in time to see a very familiar man look up from his table and wave: Nathan.
Chapter Eight
Alice’s stomach performed a strange ballet as she watched Nathan unfold himself and saunter toward them, looking disarmingly disheveled in a rumpled shirt and dark jeans.
“No…” She whipped her head back around and fixed Flora with a desperate look.
“Yes!” Flora exclaimed, oblivious. “Nathan Forrest. You know, from my party?”
“You set this up?” Alice gulped. “But…I…”
She glanced down in the vain hope that her wrinkled top had somehow steamed itself flat or, better yet, transformed itself into something stylish and flattering. But no, she was wearing old jeans and Birkenstock sandals, her hair limp and wet in a ponytail.
Before she had time to even sneak on a coat of lipstick, Nathan reached them, drawing Flora into an enthusiastic hug. “Flora, great to see you again. And you too, Alice. Although, not the best circumstances,” he added ruefully.
“Mmm-hmm.” Alice tried to collect herself. That was an understatement. Of all the occasions Flora could have picked for her matchmaking, she had to do it now—when Alice resembled nothing so much as a faded carbon copy of herself: pale and forlorn. “Thank you,” she managed, meeting his eyes. “It’s been…an interesting few weeks.”
Flora gave an innocent look. “Oh, do you two know each other? I wasn’t sure if you had a chance to meet at the party.”
“Sure, Alice and I go way back,” Nathan replied easily. “I was actually admiring one of your statues at the time. A unicorn, right?”
Flora lit up. “Sirius! I had him ordered especially, from the Netherlands.”
“You’ll have to give me the number.” Nathan suggested, a grin tugging the edge of his lips. “I can see something like that in my hallway. A centaur, maybe, or even—”
Alice let out a strangled cough. The pair looked over.
“Oh, I didn’t even say!” Flora exclaimed. “Nathan’s a financial investigator, so he’s going to help you out with the whole Ella mess. Isn’t that perfect?”
“Perfect,” Alice echoed faintly, sneaking a glance while Flora chatted excitedly about the serendipity of their situation. Had he volunteered to help, she wondered, or been roped into the meeting with Flora’s limitless enthusiasm—and a dose of emotional blackmail?
“So of course when Stefan said you loved to chase fraud people around, I knew you’d be able to help!”
Nathan caught Alice’s eye and smiled—a friendly look, not the loaded glances they’d shared last time.
Not that she expected loaded anythings, Alice reminded herself. She may have thought of him since the party, but as far as she knew, she might not have even crossed his mind.
“So he’ll get the whole Ella thing straightened out,” Flora finished brightly. “Stefan says he’s the best in the business.”
Nathan chuckled. “He’s exaggerating. But sure, whatever I can do to help.”
“See? It’s perfect!” Flora exclaimed again, looking back and forth between them. “I’ll just leave you two to get started with everything then.”
Alice panicked. “You’re not staying? But I thought—”
“Sorry.” Flora shrugged, already backing away. “But I have appointments all afternoon, and then work to do. Call me after, and let me know how it all goes.” With another meaningful look between the two of them, she spun around and all but skipped away.
“So…” Nathan turned to Alice, seemingly unconcerned by the obvious setup. Either that, or he was too polite to make an issue of it. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. How about we get some food, and then you start at the beginning?”
Alice nodded wordlessly, following him back to his table as she cursed her stepsister for what had to be the most ill-timed matchmaking attempt in the history of the world.
At least she’d had that shower.
***
They settled at a table outside, ordering cool drinks and an array of food. Nathan rolled up his sleeves and leaned back, relaxing in the sun, but Alice could find no such ease. She sat stiffly, wondering what he must be thinking. She longed to be back in bed, wallowing in peace, instead of facing an attractive man, with dark circles under her eyes and the barest grasp of poise.
“You shouldn’t have teased her like that about the statue.” Alice tried to sound friendly. “She’ll probably order you five of them.”
“Teasing? No, I’m deadly serious,” Nathan informed her, absolutely straight faced. “I think it’s just what I need to jazz the place up: a row of angels, maybe, beckoning in guests…”
Alice fixed him with a disbelieving stare. He laughed. “OK, OK.” Nathan held his hands up in surrender. “We’ll say no more of ceramics.”
He took a gulp from his beer. “So, where do you want to start? Stefan gave me the highlights, but there’s a lot I still need to find out.”
“You don’t have to help,” Alice said, awkward. “I know Flora can be…persuasive, but if you’re busy…”
“It’s no problem,” Nathan insisted. “I’m usually stuck trailing tax cases and wayward CEOs,” he added. “So, identity theft should be a fun break.”
“I’m glad,” Alice replied drily.
He laughed. “Aw, come on…You’ve just got to get into the spirit of it, that’s all. I was wading through safe-deposit receipts when Stefan called. This is like a vacation compared.”
Something about his ease began to grate at Alice. Did he treat everything as a joke? “It’s nice my nightmare is appealing to you.”
“Right, sorry.” He stopped, pausing for the waitress to deliver their food. When the plates were laid out between them, he adjusted his expression from delight to appropriate concern. “Why don’t you start at the beginning?”
Nathan managed to keep the solemn look while Alice ran through the whole sorry tale of cheating and betrayal. Then the corners of his lips tugged up again, as if he couldn’t help it.
“You know what this means, don’t you?” He leaned forward on his elbows, eyes bright.
Alice was almost used to that flush of shame, but this time, it was worse. Nathan didn’t know that she was usually the picture of responsibility; he must think her such an idiot. She picked at her salad, blushing. “That I’m stupid and trusting, I know.”
“No—that she’s good!”
“Good, right.” Alice nodded along. She should have ordered something alcoholic, wine, perhaps, or even whiskey. Anything to numb the embarrassment of having blindly trusted Ella for so long.
“No, think about it,” Nathan urged. “She spent that long pretending to be your friend, and her story never slipped—not once? That takes something special. I mean, months of work, flawless preparation, and nobody had a clue?” He shook his head with clear admiration. “The woman’s a professional.”
“I’ll let her know she has a fan,” Alice remarked wryly. “She’d like that.” Then she caught herself: “At least the Ella I knew would have liked that. But I suppose all of that was fake.” She took a long sip of her drink, still not used to referring to Ella in the past tense—or thinking of her as anyone but Ella.
“I wouldn’t say that for sure…” Nathan paused thoughtfully, applying a liberal coating of ketchup to his burger. “Playing a long con like that, criminals typically keep a lot of the details true, to save them from having to learn too many lies or getting tripped up over the easy stuff. It was months she had you going, right?”
“Five months,” Alice confirmed. “But it felt longer. We all…” She trailed off, feeling foolish, but Nathan was waiting, so she pressed on. “Everyone who met her, they agree—it was like we’d known her for years.”
He nodded. “There are ways to do that. Tricks, to build a sense of camaraderie and make you feel you’ve been friends forever.”
“Wonderful.” She let out a long breath. Another manipulation to add to the charade. “I suppose I won’t get any real answers until you track her down. How does that work, anyway? The police have done nothing but send me paperwork.”
Nathan gave a sympathetic grin. “They do seem to be big on ticking all the right boxes. But finding someone—anyone—is a piece of cake. You track their card transactions, log any passport activity—even hotels or car rental places need ID of some kind.”
Alice felt reassured for the first time all week. “So you can find her?”
Nathan hesitated.
Her confidence slipped. “What?” Alice asked, confused. “You said it’s a piece of cake. And you never lie about pastry,” she added, recalling their banter at the party.
“Usually, yes,” he agreed, clearing his throat. “But I’ve run all my usual checks already, and, well, there’s nothing.”
“Nothing?” Alice repeated, sinking back in her seat.
“Which is incredible,” Nathan told her. “I mean, people have tried to disappear as a game, and they’re caught like that.” He snapped his fingers. “But Ella was using a false identity, so she just slipped into a new one the minute she was done. There’s no trace of where she went or when; not even a log-in to her email account to trace.”
“She was planning for this.” Alice realized: “All along, she had her exit strategy mapped out.”
Nathan nodded, finishing a mouthful. “I’ll look some more, see if she didn’t slip up somewhere, but I don’t want you getting your hopes up. Best-case scenario, I find your money through my banking contacts or even just prove she’s enough of a professional that the banks have to refund you.”
Alice slowly absorbed his words. “You mean, they might not?”
Nathan looked at her sympathetically. “Never underestimate what fucking assholes they can be. Sorry, language,” he added. “Now you’re her friend, they’ll try and claim it’s your fault—that you were negligent with your details somehow. It gets them off the hook. You’ve got to love the small print.”
Of course.
Alice exhaled, stabbing at her lettuce. “Bastards,” she muttered, but even that was lackluster. All her emotion had long since been drained away.
“Stefan said he’s got a solicitor on the case, so I’m sure he’ll fix things eventually,” he encouraged her. “But from what I’ve heard, it’s not so much the identity theft that causes the stress, as trying to untangle everything afterward.”
There was silence for a moment, filled by the chatter around them. Alice should be one of those brisk women, she knew: back at work, with purpose and direction, but somehow, that drive eluded her. She was still deep in wallow. When Alice glanced up, she found Nathan watching her, thoughtful.
“What?” she asked self-consciously. It was a miracle, at least, that Flora had got her washed and dressed for the meeting, but Alice was still painfully aware of her lank, bedraggled appearance.
“It’s nothing.” Nathan paused. “I just…wonder what made her become friends with you. They usually don’t,” he explained. “Not close friendships, anyway. It’s more dangerous that way—more chance of them being caught out in one of their lies.”
Alice gave another dull shrug. It was just another question in a long list of things that didn’t make sense. “So she could get access to all my information, I suppose. I wasn’t a complete idiot,” she added. “I was cautious, at first. We met at cafés, or bars, and I don’t think I had her over to the flat for about a month or so.” When Ella invited her out for drinks after a long, tiring week, Alice had suggested that they stay in instead. Ella brought pizza, Alice rented Before Sunrise, and they’d spent the evening musing over the naïve hopefulness of first loves. Of course, now that she looked back on the casual evening, Alice had to wonder if Ella was snooping through her cupboards every time she left the room.
“Maybe.” Nathan nodded. “It would tell us how she got away with being so low tech. Most identity thefts are Internet hacking jobs—it’s why I don’t get involved. Nothing but code and passwords, and t
here’s nothing fun in that.” He caught himself and coughed. “Fun for me, I mean. Anyway, it doesn’t look like she hacked any of your passwords, for a start.”
“She wouldn’t need to, would she? Not once she had my helpful list of security codes and PINs. I locked it away!” Alice added quickly, noting the disbelieving look on his face. “I had a small safe in the back of my wardrobe.”
“Let me guess, the combination was your birthday.” The skeptical expression remained.
Alice bristled slightly. “No. My mother’s—which nobody would ever know,” she defended herself quickly.
“Unless they spent months secretly compiling a list of every significant number combination in your life.” Nathan finished, his tone sympathetic.
They finished their food in silence, but Alice barely tasted a thing. If Nathan—who didn’t seem the modest type—was doubtful about the chances of finding Ella, then what hope had she for answers?
“Can I get you a cab?” Nathan asked chivalrously when everything was cleared away. “I have to stick around here for a meeting, but—”
“No, thank you.” Alice shook her head. “I’m staying nearby.” Taxis were an unnecessary luxury right then, given her limited funds. Nonetheless, she took out her purse. “Let me,” she said, reaching for the bill. “It’s the least I can do, you’ve already spent all this time…”
“It’s nothing.” Nathan swiped it out from under her hand and took a few notes from his wallet. He gave another of those boyish grins. “I can deduct it. Business expenses.”
“Oh, well, thanks.” Alice got to her feet, wishing she could feel as relaxed as Nathan seemed. They hadn’t mentioned what happened at the party, and now, at this late stage, it seemed almost impolite. Besides, what would she say? “Remember that time you invited me to Paris?” That was surely the way to create a casual, professional relationship. Alice wondered if he’d be just as unconcerned now if they actually had spent the weekend in a passionate embrace. Some people’s ease she envied.
The Liberation of Alice Love Page 8