I edged past the two doorways leading to the small kitchenette and a bathroom — both clear — and stopped at the doorway to her office. Keeping my back to the wall, I peeped my head around the door. At first, I saw nothing. No criminals rifling the room. Actually, no one at all. Nothing seemed out of place... nothing except the legs sticking out from under the desk. Well, that evoked old memories best forgotten.
Fortunately for me, this pair were wriggling and wearing the most divine Manolo Blahnick pumps. I rushed over and rounded the desk, bending down beside Helen Callery. She had a piece of silver duct tape stuck over her mouth, her hair was a mess, and mascara was smeared on her cheeks. Her left eye was swollen enough that I'd put money on her having a black eye by morning. Her hands were bound behind her back so she couldn't do anything, but wriggle.
"Mmmm, mmm, arrrrf!" she groaned and wriggled some more.
I reached for the tape. "I'm sorry," I said, "I'm going to rip this off on three, okay? One..." I ripped it off.
"What happened to three?" Helen squeaked, her hand darting to her lips. The tape left raw, red marks around her mouth.
"I thought it would be better if you weren't expecting it."
"You thought wrong! It hurt! That bitch!"
I sat back on my heels. "Me?"
"No! Madeleine!"
I looked around. "Where is Madeleine?"
"Damned if I know. She did this to me." Helen rolled her shoulders and I helped her up. Her wrists were bound by tape too, several layers thick.
"Do you know where she might have gone?"
"Long gone I should think," Helen told me while I searched her desk for a pair of scissors. I found them in the top drawer after she told me where to look, and set about cutting through the resistant layers. "I got back from lunch and caught her doing something on my computer. She knows everything we do here is confidential, and no one should have my password, but me. I don't know how she got it. When I demanded to know what was going on, we fought and she knocked me down. She straddled me..." Helen heaved a sob and her chin wobbled.
"Go on," I coaxed.
"She hit me several times before I think I passed out. When I woke up, I was bound and my mouth was taped, and I saw her working at the laptop. I don't know what she was doing." I tore off the last little bit binding her and Helen pulled her hands free. She attempted to tug the remaining tape off her wrists and winced.
"I think we need to soak them off," I advised her. "You sit up here on the desk chair and I'll check what she was doing on your computer."
"She's going to ruin my business! What the hell got into her? Maybe she wants to steal the business."
Somehow, that didn't ring true to me. I couldn't see two millionaire matchmaking businesses competing with each other in Montgomery. I didn't know what Madeleine was up to, but I had a sick feeling she was somehow connected to the thief. Maybe even connected to Ben.
I pulled the chair upright and tugged it over to the desk for Helen, helping her to sit before turning to the open laptop. Madeleine didn't bother to shut it down and it opened to the desktop when I hit the spacebar. I couldn't tell what was tampered with; that was a job for Lucas. All the same, I checked the recycle folder. Empty.
"Did you trash any files recently?" I asked.
Helen frowned. "I guess."
"The recycle folder is empty. I think Madeleine purged it clean, but I can't be sure that's all she did. What kind of information do you keep in here?"
"Everything to do with the business. All client information. Payment records. Photographs. Supplier information. Access to our database."
I pursed my lips as I thought about it. "Where do you keep your client files?"
Helen shuffled the chair over. She reached for the mouse. "Here, they're all here," she said, clicking a folder, and opening a subfolder. "Why?"
"Just a hunch," I told her as I scrolled through. "Just as I thought..."
"What?"
"At least one client file is missing." And wouldn't you just know it? The file I couldn't find belongs to Ben Rafferty. I would have tried to investigate further, as much as my limited technical knowledge allowed, but I heard a footstep in the hall, the barest sound that told me someone had entered the office suite. Fueling our worry, they didn't declare themselves.
"Someone's here," I whispered to Helen and her eyes widened as I dropped into a crouch. She shuffled off her chair and dropped next to me, pressing her back against the desk.
"Madeleine?" she mouthed.
I shook my head. "I don't know. I'm gonna go see." She grabbed my arm and I had to peel her fingers off. They were surprisingly claw-like and she had one hell of a grip. "I'll be right back."
"There's a gun in the lowest drawer," she whispered.
"Why have you got a gun?"
Helen shrugged. "Why not?"
"Could have used it!"
"On Madeleine? I was going to, but she hit me over the head. I didn't get a chance or I would have put a cap in her head."
"Guess you didn't want to deal with her unemployment paperwork, huh?" Helen gave me a stern look that reminded me a little of both Grandma O'Shaughnessy and my old boot camp sergeant. I shivered, and edged away, reaching for the bottom drawer. Sure enough, a small revolver lay in a box.
"Where are the bullets?" I asked.
"There's a carton at the back of the drawer. I don't keep it loaded."
"No problem." I grabbed the carton, emptied a few bullets into my hand and loaded the gun. I checked the safety was off and listened hard. A creak sounded further down the hallway. I made to creep around the desk, but Helen's claws, sorry, fingers, hooked around my elbow.
"Be careful," she said, giving my elbow a little squeeze. Well, that was nice.
"No problem."
"Also, shoot to kill." Awesome.
"Thanks for the suggestion."
"You're welcome." Helen gave me a tight smile and sniffed, probably a little too loudly. I hoped our intruder didn't hear.
"Dial nine-one-one," I told her. "Be right back." I edged around the desk and a little scrape told me Helen was tugging the phone towards her. I checked quickly that she had it in her hands before running across the room to the door. Standing behind it, I peered through the crack. I had to withdraw quickly when I saw a figure advancing. I counted to five, then checked again. The figure was in shadows, obscured by the diminishing late afternoon light.
Taking a deep breath, I jumped around the door, and raised the gun, aiming right at his chest. Or his heart. Whatever. I was going to hit something! The figure raised his gun and aimed it at me; and for a moment, we were caught in a stalemate.
"Lexi?" he said, stepping forward.
"Oh! It's you! Maddox, I could have shot you!"
"I could have shot you!"
"I could have shot you first!"
"What bit of me were you aiming at?"
I waved my hand at his torso. "That bit," I told him. "And I wouldn't have missed!"
Maddox lowered his gun and looked back towards the reception. "Looks like this place has been turned over."
"Nah. They just have a really poor maintenance staff."
Maddox frowned as he turned back to me. "Really?"
"No, Detective Dumb-ass. The place got turned over by Madeleine, who, by the way, is not just any old receptionist. I've got Helen Callery in her office. She says Madeleine hit her over the head and tied her up. When she awoke, Madeleine was at the computer. I think she was erasing files at the very least."
"Whoa," said Maddox. "Madeleine is in on this? Madeleine? That cute receptionist?"
"Even cute people can commit crimes."
Maddox gave me a look and I shrugged. "Yeah, looks that way."
"Hmm."
"Are you two going to help me or what?" called Helen. "The police are on their way."
"The police are already here," said Maddox, flashing his badge.
"Thank God my taxes pay for something," said Helen. "You're fast."
Maddox huffed what might have been a laugh and looked over at me. "Are you putting the gun down or what?"
"Oh, right, sorry."
As he passed me, he said in a small voice, "I object to Detective Dumb-ass. That's Detective Great-Ass to you."
"I know. I've seen it."
"You've held it."
"Don't remind me." I mean, really, was this not the worst moment or what? Just for old time's sake, I checked out his ass as he passed. It really was a great one.
"Did you get Ben Rafferty yet?" I asked him.
"Not yet."
"Madeleine erased his file from the agency records, so my hunch says they're connected somehow. I didn't find his file in the trash file either. I think forensics needs to check it."
"That will take forever. Can you get Lucas to do it?"
I nodded. "Sure. He can crack anything."
"Tell him not to crack it, but just find and retrieve whatever got erased. I want to know what Madeleine is hiding. You okay there, Ms. Callery?"
"Could be better. My head hurts."
"I'm going to call a paramedic to check you over." Maddox's phone rang and he eyed it, letting it ring as he said, "Lexi, can you sit with her? I gotta take this call."
"Sure."
While Maddox answered his call in the corridor, I helped Helen back into her chair and placed a call of my own. "Lucas, I'm at the dating agency, and I have a laptop that needs your expertise." I quickly explained the problem and Lucas told me to bring it right over, that Solomon told him this case took priority.
"We got him," said Maddox when he returned. "Couple of uniforms spotted Rafferty heading out of town and pulled him over. They're taking him to the station now. I gotta go and take the lead. Stay with Ms. Callery until the paramedics get here; then get that laptop to Lucas. I want to know the minute something turns up."
"You got it. What about Madeleine?"
"Now that the whole of Montgomery can stop looking for Rafferty, they're on the search for Madeleine. We'll get her. She can't have gone far. Crime scene investigators will comb this place for evidence too. Don't touch anything."
I didn't touch a thing as we waited for the paramedics. I didn't even touch my gun when Blake stuck her head around the door and asked Helen a few questions about what happened. By the time Maddox told me it was okay to go, and they were leaving, I was relieved.
Helen was escorted out by two paramedics who treated her scrapes and bruises, as well as a suspected concussion. Right after the investigators arrived to do their thing, Garrett called me. "You owe me babysitting," he said before hanging up.
I looked at the phone for a moment, wondering what the hell I'd done when it rang again, my brother's name again on the screen. I answered, but before I could say anything, he said, "I hate you. I'm the only lieutenant in the history of the world taking his mom on a ride-a-long." He hung up a second time.
"Hmm," I said to a stray cat that strolled past. It paused, looked at me, then peed against the wall. I edged away and called Garrett back. "You made lieutenant," I said, before he could cut me off. "That's great! Why am I baby..."
"Hate was too strong," he cut in, "I apologize, but you still suck. You told Mom to ask me for a ride-a-long and now she wants to be a PI. You're babysitting at eight p.m. next Tuesday while I take my wife out for dinner." He hung up. After a moment, I shrugged and entered the date in my diary. Then I headed back to HQ, the laptop tucked safely in my purse, alongside Helen Callery's gun. Just in case.
Chapter Twenty-One
I waited, lounging in my office chair with my feet on the desk, for Lucas to give me some information, and thought about Ben. Mostly, I thought about how disappointed I was that he was our real thief. Despite kicking myself for being wrong, I had felt relieved to hear that Lord Justin, aka Ken Moody, was the culprit. I felt mortified to accuse Ben. That said, Ben really played me. He had me utterly convinced that I was wrong and all along... To think I doubted myself. Next time, I’d listen to my gut instinct all the way. Lesson learned.
I watched Solomon move about his office. He grabbed his jacket, pressed a few keys on his laptop, and closed the lid. As he reached the door, he looked up, and our eyes met through the glass partition. "You okay?" he asked when he shut the door behind him.
"Meh."
"Good 'meh' or bad 'meh'?"
"Meh meh meh."
"Have you thought about going into rap?" That coaxed a smile out of me. "You better not be feeling bad about all this. It just got complicated. Cases do."
"I knew Ben was the one. I should have fought for it."
"We already had Justin, Ken Moody, whatever his name is, under arrest. Your job was to foil a fraud and you did. You did just fine," Solomon assured me.
"We got the wrong guy."
"We've got Ben Rafferty now."
"Not his accomplice."
Solomon shrugged. "Not yet, not today. Maybe tomorrow. We underestimated Ben. It didn't occur to any of us that the scope of this operation involved a partner. You uncovered that."
"Who do you think Madeleine is to him anyway? His wife? Girlfriend?" I mused. Ick. I hoped she wasn't either. I'd feel bad about kissing him if that were the case.
"Could be. Could be a friend or relative, or just someone in it for the money, just like Ben... What is it?"
I stopped listening the moment Solomon mused on who Madeleine really was and my mind reeled. "You know, we could find out if they are related. When I went to Million Matches, the kitchen wasn’t cleaned. Maybe Madeleine used a mug or something. There might be DNA. Oh my God! At my house too! I mean the Chilton house. Ben sipped a glass of water and I put it in the kitchen to wash, and you know, I never got around to it. We could have his DNA too. That's better than a fingerprint! Oh! We have fingerprints too! Oh shit! The crime scene investigators got to the agency just as I left."
"How long ago?"
"Maybe an hour." Solomon was on the phone in a flash. "Who're you texting?" I asked.
"Your ex. He needs to preserve that evidence, get it bagged and tagged and sent to the lab."
"Who's the rapper now?"
The corner of Solomon's mouth edged upwards and his chest heaved — not that I was looking — like he wanted to laugh. "Let me know what happens with the laptop," he said.
"Where are you going?"
"I was going to MPD. Now I'm heading to Chilton to get that glass. Fingerprints and DNA could crack Ben Rafferty's real identity. You did good."
I reached for my lip gloss and pocket mirror. "I know."
The time it took for Lucas to investigate the computer gave me more time for contemplation, and not one bit of it was about Solomon's broad, strong chest. Well, those few seconds were all about his physique, but mostly I thought about Ben and all the problems he caused. Money, gems, and other things stolen. Financial loss, shattered memories, and sentimental pain.
I wondered which was worse and concluded the loss of all those stolen items probably meant different things to different people. That got me to thinking about all the other intangible things Ben was messing with. The women he preyed on may have had affection for him, which would have, no doubt, eroded their confidence in themselves, once they knew they had been played. I considered all the emotional fallout from that. Did Ben leave a string of broken hearts across the country? Internationally? Were these women loath to trust another man? I wondered how he slept at night. Considering that he had great skin, no bags under his eyes, and made this his career, I had to conclude, he slept pretty damn well.
Really, I had to consider myself very lucky I didn't lose a single thing to him. Except I liked him, and that bugged me. He was sweet, funny, and charming. Not all of that could have been an act. He was really handsome too; that definitely was no act.
One thing was for certain: I would drive myself mad trying to work Ben Rafferty out, and my energies were better served elsewhere. Like catching other criminals and online shopping. I just hoped he confessed now he was in handcuffs.
&n
bsp; All the same, my thoughts drifted back to Ben and the strange familiarity that kept troubling me over and over. I was sure I had seen him somewhere before. Somewhere recently. If only I could figure out where I knew him from, I might get to Madeleine, then we'd get three criminals for the price of one. MPD would love the Solomon Agency for that. Or not... It really depended on their caseload and how much they loved paperwork.
From my drawer I grabbed my pad of paper and pulled a pen from the mug on my desk. I wrote BEN RAFFERTY at the top and followed his name with a big, fat question mark. Where were all the places I might have seen him before? TV? Newspaper? Magazine? I wrote the three on the pad and sub-headed that list "Not in person". I drew a line down the middle of the pad and added another sub-heading to the right side. "In person." So where could I have seen him? The store? Grocery shopping?
04 - Shock and Awesome Page 27