"I don't think so," I said, adding, "Oh, I think someone in the street saw my door wide open and went to investigate. I don't really know what happened."
Ben nodded, as if it were likely that a friendly neighbor would check up on me. "And he didn't see the thief either?"
Again, I got the feeling that his questions were too much, too prying. "He?" I asked. "I don't remember saying the person who got hurt was a he."
"Didn't you? Maybe I just assumed. I guess I thought it was unlikely a woman would investigate. All the same..." He waited.
"No, I don't think so." I shrugged with what I hoped was a blasé look. "I don't know. I guess someone would have told me," I continued in the lie. Of course, Delgado was fine, albeit a few stitches and a day of rest, but I could hardly say that. I struggled again to remember if I identified the gender of my "friendly neighbor." I really didn't think so, but I couldn't be sure. It was possible Ben just assumed. He had as much chance of being right as wrong. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe I was just antsy because I expected someone to call any moment and confirm Justin was our guy.
"You look cold. Here, take my jacket," Ben offered as he slipped his jacket off and tucked it around my shoulders before I could protest. Not that I was planning to. I was a little chilly in the night breeze even though I swapped my pretty dress for navy-colored pants and a sheer pink blouse... I ditched the burger-and-fries scent for a spritz of Calvin Klein. As I pulled the jacket around me, something dropped from the pocket onto the floor and I stooped to pick it up, moments before Ben could, his fingers missing the packet by inches. I turned the thick paper over as I stood. Tickets. Train tickets. For tomorrow.
"Are you going somewhere?" I asked, frowning. He didn't mention a trip all evening.
"No. I’m returning those." Ben plucked them from my hands, folded the tickets in half and pushed them into the rear pocket of his jeans, before rubbing his hands over my upper arms. "Let me warm you," he said, looking down at me with his dreamy eyes.
The uncomfortable, niggling feeling I had about Ben increased the closer I got to him, even though I tried shrugging it off as simple nerves. By the time he leaned in to softly kiss me on the lips, I was a ball of insecurity. He planned to leave without telling me, and he wanted to know too much about the burglary, so could he be the thief? Was he the thief? Had he played me the whole time? Of course, there was the possibility that Lord Justin also played me, but there was something about Ben that just didn't sit right the more I thought about it.
No matter what else was wrong with Justin, he was too much of a bumbling idiot, wasn't he? He didn't play the game at all successfully. He made too many mistakes.
But Ben didn't.
Ben was handsome, smooth, suave and intelligent. He was everything our profile indicated our thief should be, and my gut knew what my heart refused to believe.
He was the thief.
I was sure of it. But how to prove it before he escaped town? In a movie, I'd catch him in the act, like we planned or cleverly tricked him into admitting it. This, however, was real life, and Ben was too smart for that. Ben was the thief who never got caught.
Until now.
Not that I was totally up on my own abilities to catch him, but... someone had to do it, right? Maybe tonight was my night.
"Hey, gorgeous," Ben said, his eyebrows knitting together as he drew back from the kiss I barely returned. "Everything okay?"
I gave him a disinterested half shrug, then remembered I was supposed to be into this. Aiding the charade was Ben’s appearance. He looked super hot in black jeans and a white t-shirt, the short sleeves framing his bulging biceps nicely. His chest, straining under the material, was something else. I stared at it the way a really rude guy stares at breasts. One pec popped up, then down again. My mind went blank. What were we talking about? And was that his phone pressing into my hip? Or something else?
Wait.
He was distracting me. He was making me forget what I was just thinking and I couldn't let him.
In a flash, I remembered what I saw the night the Chilton house was hit. There was someone walking along the street. Not once, but twice. But it wasn't any random stranger. It was Ben. I was sure of it. Yes, he was wearing a cap last night but I knew his profile and if I'd paid better attention I would have caught him then. There was only one reason he could have been there.
I stepped back and took a deep breath. Ben watched me, but didn't move any closer.
"It's you! I saw you last night!" I gasped as my mind whirred. Of course, it must have been so easy. He was incredibly handsome, charming, romantic... Really, Ben appeared to be most women's idea of a perfect guy. He would never have trouble convincing any woman to share her secrets, especially those of the shopping variety. Inviting him into their homes would feel natural, just as it did with me; there was nothing about Ben that screamed “unsafe.” Or "sleazy" like Justin. He could access anything. As a career felon, he would know exactly what to look for. He could probably case the house in minutes. Come to think of it, it was a good job Ben only wanted to be a thief, because he could have been a successful serial killer. What a comforting thought.
"What am I?" Ben asked slowly.
"You're not looking for love," I continued.
"Uh..."
"You're using the Million Matches agency to find victims to steal from, not a wife!"
"Slow down, Lex..."
"I know it's you. I don't know how you did it, but I know it's you!"
"All this from seeing me outside your house?"
"The same night it got burglarized! That was no coincidence."
"Maybe I brought you flowers that night. Did you think that maybe I had a legitimate reason to visit the beautiful woman I enjoy dating? That maybe I didn't find you home and waited?" Ben's eyes narrowed, his face seeming to darken with annoyance, and he breathed heavily through his nose like an angry bull.
Actually, no. That never occurred to me, but I wasn't going to admit it to Ben. Instead, I wracked my brain. Was he carrying flowers? I couldn't remember. My mind launched into a panic after Lily's call.
I sped on, carried away with the story I knew must be true. Images flickered through my brain as the mini movie of that night replayed for me alone. "You saw I wasn't home, so you broke in. I know you entered from the rear and you must have exited via the front door. You switched on the living room lamp." I ran a hand through my hair, trying to remember the events as best I could. The lamp that I hadn't switched on. The shadow in the room. "But there was nothing for you to steal. It was a set-up."
"You set a trap for me?" Ben stepped back, incredulous.
"You bet we did."
"And you expected to find me... what? Carrying out your TV? Slipping your stereo into my backpack and making off? Was I wearing a striped suit, a mask, and carrying a bag marked 'swag' in this fantasy of yours?" Ben folded his arms and waited, but right at that moment, my cell phone vibrated in my pocket. I held a finger up to him, not a rude one, but to tell him to hold it while I checked the screen for the text message that just came in.
Lucas. “Got him,” it read, “Lord Justin an imposter!!! Solomon and Maddox arresting now.”
"Oh, shit," I whispered, as I looked from the screen to Ben's stony face.
I had the wrong guy.
I was so convinced that Ben was the thief, I blustered on. How could I have gotten it so wrong? So completely wrong?
"You want to check your wallet and mine right now?" Ben continued, emptying his pants pockets. "Make sure I didn't pickpocket you while you checked your phone."
"I am so sorry," I whispered, staring at the cell phone in my hands. "I got it wrong. I got it really wrong."
"Damn right you did!"
"Please, Ben, I... I'm really..."
"Save it," snapped Ben. "You don't get to accuse me of being a thief and a fraud, then just say sorry and we continue our date. You know I tried to make a real effort for you. I thought you were a great girl while you thought I was pl
aying you the whole time. Here's a newsflash, Lexi, if that's even your real name, I'm not the player, you are! This was a set-up the whole time! You tried to play me and you lost. I'm out of here." Ben stepped backwards and heaved a breath. When I reached for him, he took another step back, brushing my hand off while simply shaking his head. "See you around," he muttered before walking out.
If I were he, I would have done exactly the same thing. Even worse, he was right. I did play him. I pretended to be someone he wanted for the purposes of attracting him just so we could bait him.
Now I didn't have the thief, the guy, or even a date... and Maddox and Solomon both scooped me to the arrest.
Life really sucked.
Chapter Nineteen
I didn't have the heart to go to work and catch the celebration that, no doubt, was now in play at the successful completion of the case. Instead, I dragged my tired and embarrassed self over to the agency's parking garage to swap my conspicuous, cherry red Ferrari for my reliable, unremarkable VW and headed over to the Bonneville Avenue to do a sulky stakeout on the weird neighbor since the Schuberts called to say the strange noises had been on and off all day. Maybe I could complete this case without it blowing up in my face.
I checked on Lily before the stakeout and found her lying on the sofa, looking red-eyed and pale. She told me she didn't think she had a single tear left. Freshly stocked with new magazines and snacks, which I brought over, like that made any difference to her grief, I shed a few tears for her after I got back into my car.
Aidan Marsh's car was gone and the house seemed empty when I got there. After the last time, I saw no point in canvassing the house or rear yard again, and certainly not without my look-out-slash-partner in “It's-not-a-crime-if-no-one-sees-you-doing-it.”
Retouching my mascara, I checked my reflection in my small pocket mirror, while feeling horribly selfish for not staying with Lily. At least, she wasn't alone; my mother arrived as I left, and Lily's own mother even phoned. Plus, Lily insisted that I find out what the heck this guy was up to and give her all the gory details, without becoming his next victim. And even if I did, she promised not to rest until he was brought to justice, which wasn't too reassuring.
So here I was. Mascara in its rightful place on my lashes, and thumbs twiddling while I waited for a sign that Aidan Marsh was due home. Absent of any other ideas, the only sign I looked for was the dude actually arriving.
Had I really thought about it the last time we were here, I would have stuck a tracker on his car and monitored his movements. However, that would have alerted Solomon, or at the very least, Lucas, to my activities and I didn't want that. Plus, I would have had to investigate every suspicious movement, maybe even go body part-hunting if he went to the woods or the recycling depot. That was something I'd yet to do and really didn't look forward to. Not that I was lazy, it was just that hunting for body parts sounded totally gross.
Thinking about gross reminded me of Lord Justin the Douchebag, and Ben Rafferty. How could I have gotten it so wrong? I knew there was something fishy about Ben, but in reality, the Big Kahuna was Justin. There was only one way I could find out how they caught Justin: by calling the agency. I swallowed what was left of my pride and called Lucas, the one co-worker least likely to laugh at my mammoth mistake. Also, the most likely to know exactly what information we got when I copied Justin's phone.
"Hey, Le..." Lucas started, picking up the phone.
"Don't say my name!" I squeaked, sliding lower in my seat. After a moment, I straightened up. This wasn't a video call after all. No one could see me. Shame really, since my lashes looked great. Maybe an extra touch of eyeshadow... oh wait... phone call! "Um, that is, I don't want anyone to know I'm calling."
"O-kaaaay. Um, why not?"
"Because I got the wrong guy! I'm such a doofus!"
Lucas made a rude noise. It was hard to tell if he agreed with me or not. "You did not," he said, "you did great cloning Justin's phone. Oh, he's not Justin either. His name is Ken Moody and he's not from England. He's from Nebraska."
"He's not even English?" I gasped.
"Nope. Never been there."
I let out the breath I was holding, asking in disbelief, "So none of his story was true?"
"Not one bit. He made the whole thing up. Bought a title from the Internet. Copied a photo of the Downton Abbey house online, claiming it was his family's place..."
"I knew I saw that house somewhere!"
"Yeah. That's how he got the accent too. Watching reruns. Oh, and you want to hear the kicker?"
I straightened up. "There's more?"
"Ken Moody is married. Twice."
"He got married twice? That's not so bad."
"No, he's married twice. Two different women, same time. One in Florida, one in Utah. Both now want to kill him."
I let out another gasp of air I didn't know I was holding in. "He's a bigamist?"
"Yep."
"Wow! He really isn't that good looking."
"That's what you're taking away from this?" came Solomon's voice down the line.
"It's an important observation!" I squeaked, sliding down in the seat again. It was. I mean, I wasn't even into my first marriage, and Lord Justin, aka Ken Moody, managed to convince not one woman to marry him, but two. At the same time. There was hope for me yet!
"If you're thinking there's hope for you yet, I'll point out that Ken Moody is a bigamist and that's only one of his many crimes," said Solomon.
Eek! "I was not thinking about marriage. At. All," I protested. "I'm not ready. I have a lot of clothes and can't give up an inch of closet space to a man. Also, I'm very independent, and I am not, I repeat not, picking up any man's socks. And I like going out and wearing pajamas with animals on them. Not sexy ones. The pajamas, not the animals. The animals aren't sexy either. Also, I wear different clothes when I'm going out, not pajamas. I'm just not ready for marriage." I clammed up. I wasn't ready to talk either.
"Let me know when you're ready," said Solomon. I heard the sound of the phone exchanging hands before Lucas came back on the line. "Ready for what?" he asked.
"To know what happens next," I said quickly, frowning as I thought about what Solomon said. Let him know when I was ready for what? Living with a man? Was he implying he wanted to marry me? He did have a lot of closet space, now I remembered it. And he wasn't doing his sister, a good thing in anyone's world. Plus, he was unmarried and not a criminal. And unfairly handsome.
And... there were an awful lot of “ands” working in Solomon's favor.
It was too much for now. I had to focus.
"Okay. So, when we realized Lord Justin wasn't whom he said he was, Solomon took the evidence to Detective Maddox and they arrested him. He confessed immediately and he's still being interrogated," Lucas told me
"Did he confess to targeting all those women?" I asked, because that was the clincher.
"That's what Maddox is working on now. He zipped his lip when we charged him, and demanded a lawyer."
"So, he said... nothing?" I paused, waiting.
"As far as I know. Solomon's still in the office and he said nothing to me. Anyway, isn't Maddox your, uh..."
"Ex," I confirmed, like Lucas didn't know.
"Yeah. So... you call him! I have two cases of beer on ice and we're waiting."
"Great idea! Never thought of that," I snipped sarcastically. Maddox and I got on okay, but I wouldn't say we were exactly on best terms, given our break-up. On the scale of whom I wanted to call, he rated after my boss at this point, but since my boss said nothing, and my colleague knew even less, I rethought what my next call would have to be. I just hoped Maddox was so engrossed in the case, he didn't want any small talk, or haggling about our break-up again. That was one thing I didn't want to think about at all. The hurt was too deep, and the confusion even deeper. I didn't know how I could ever truly know if he told the truth about the night I saw him getting cozy with another woman. Until then... well, I couldn't get back togethe
r with him while my mind and heart were at odds; but there was another part of me that couldn't let go.
It didn't escape my mind that all of my issues with Maddox were similar to my issues with Solomon. I didn't know what the hell to do about him either. One thing was for sure: Ben Rafferty wouldn't be returning my calls. "Ugh," I grunted. "I'll call Maddox."
"Call me right back," said Lucas. "I want to know what you know."
"What if I know nothing?"
"I want to know that too."
"Don't hold your breath," I told him. "Also, can you tell Solomon that I accused Ben and now my cover is definitely blown?" I hung up before Lucas could say a word and immediately dialed Maddox before I lost my nerve. I rather hoped he would be in the interrogation room, so I could leave a voicemail. I was startled when he answered.
04 - Shock and Awesome Page 24