by Maisie Dean
It was my turn to nod. I agreed. Staying positive, and doing your best to find them, was the only course of action.
Owen met my gaze kindly. I found that it was in the harder moments of the job that Owen and I could relate the most honestly. Harrison had such a head for the pragmatic. With him it was progress, answers, or the pursuit of progress and answers. Lucky often didn’t know what to do with himself when he couldn’t make light of a situation or depend on his wiles to get him by. They were both brilliant detectives, and it was thanks to the two of them that we solved a great deal of the cases we took, but they occasionally struggled with the realities of the humanity aspect of our work. Owen, as aloof as he could be about day-to-day human experience, understood the weight. I think it helped him do his part of the job so well. Maybe it was Owen I had to watch in order to figure out how to manage my feelings about the Annie and Busty situation.
Owen saved the photo of the boy in a new file and the image disappeared from his screen.
Owen inhaled quickly and let out a longer exhale. “I know what we should do. How about I use the program on you and make you look like an old lady?” Owen suggested.
I smiled. “Yes, let’s absolutely do that,” I said.
“Okay, we need a photo,” Owen said.
“Take one on your phone,” I said. I picked up his black Android. It had a math sticker on it that was probably a joke of some kind, but I didn’t understand it.
“I...okay,” Owen said. He blushed slightly.
I bent down so that he could take a photo, but I made sure not to let my top gape open again. I gave him, or the phone camera, a bright smile.
“Okay, ready?” Owen asked. “One, two, three!”
CHAPTER 12
By five o’clock, I’d completed all of the administrative tasks that I could handle for one day. Even with the help of my glasses, my eyes felt distorted and tired from looking at a screen most of the day. I didn’t know how Owen did it.
Lucky and Harrison had had a similarly monotonous day, or that’s what they told us when they’d phoned earlier that afternoon. They’d seen Busty leave the house in the late afternoon, but still there was no sign of Annie coming or going from the house. I had to admit, if Annie was trying to fake her injuries, staying elusive was a smart move.
I poured out the cold remainder of my coffee from early that morning and washed my cup in the break room.
“It’s finished!” I heard Owen call.
“What is?” I asked. I dried my hands and walked back into the office. I heard the large printer whirring behind my desk.
“The photo. The edited one to make you look old, remember?” Owen said. He stood up to go fetch a few pages waiting for him in the tray. Owen used a computer program to alter the photos of people on some of our cases when the photo we had did not capture the way a suspect or subject might look at present. For fun, he’d used a photo of me.
“I’m ready,” I said. I circled around his desk and sat in his empty chair. It was a lot more comfortable than mine because he spent so much time at his computer than the rest of us. Owen set down one of the printouts.
“Woah,” I said. I hadn’t been ready. Seeing myself as an old woman made my stomach clench and I inadvertently bit my lip. Aging was a difficult subject in Hollywood, and even though I’d consciously left my world as an actress behind, a sea of old inner dialog and criticism rushed over me. My eyes looked smaller, shrouded by the skin around them that had wrinkled and sagged. My eyebrows were thinner and paler. My forehead had fared okay, but the rest of my face was marked with wrinkles that ranged from deep to subtle, like the lines on the palms of my hands. The hairstyle was oddly familiar. In fact, I felt like I’d been looking at this face for some time. My brown hair was shorter in the image. It was cropped at the shoulders with a little twist of a curl tucking the ends up and out of sight.
“Get ready for this one because it’s really strange,” Owen said. He was delaying putting down the other portrait.
“Stranger than that?” I asked.
Owen nodded and slid the photo on top of the last. “It’s because you look like…”
“Tippy.” Owen and I said his grandmother’s name at the same time.
It was true. In this version, Owen had altered the color of my hair to a white blonde. The real Tippy looked years younger than Owen’s rendering of me, but the similarity was uncanny.
“That is completely weird,” I said.
“A wig is the single easiest disguise, assuming you can get one that’s good enough to not look like a wig. They can be really expensive, too. You can even fool your relatives if you’re using a wig disguise. I know this from personal experience, and my family is full of detectives,” Owen said with a snort.
For the second time that day I heard quick footsteps moving up the stairs to the office. I didn’t even have time to get nervous before a head of platinum blonde hair appeared and pushed through the glass door to the office. The blonde hair was parted down the middle in a precise way and pinned with a twist toward the back on one side. The woman’s bright eyes were rimmed with liner that finished at each edge with a cat’s- eye swoop.
“Hey, Kacey. Hi, Owen.” It was only the sound of her voice that finally clued me in.
“Rosie!” Owen and I said in unison.
“I hardly recognize you,” I told her. Beneath the khaki-colored courier vest she wore, Rosie was wearing a tight, long sleeved shirt with sections that were almost sheer enough to see her skin. Her long, thin legs were clad in black exercise leggings which disappeared into a chunky pair of black boots.
Owen’s mouth hung open. I had to nudge him twice to get him to close it.
“I know, right? I thought I’d give your suggestion a try,” Rosie said.
“How’s it going?” I asked.
Rosie beamed. “Great! I don’t think it’s made anyone stop talking about me, but at least I’m controlling what they’re talking about, right?”
“For sure,” I said. “As long as you feel good.”
“I do, I feel great. Everyone’s taking me very seriously today. Here, these are for the office,” Rosie said. She walked forward to hand them to me. Even the way she carried herself was different. Her speech, often a little erratic and uncentered, was even and strong.
I took the envelopes from her. Based on the return address I could tell that they were related to an old case, so I chucked them onto Lucky’s desk. When I turned back to Rosie the whole look struck me all over again. It was amazing what some makeup and a change of hairstyle could do.
“Hold on...” I said aloud. Owen stopped putting his laptop into its bag and Rosie stopped heading back toward the door.
“Me?” Rosie asked.
“No, no. I’ll see you at home later. You’ve given me an idea. Owen and I still have one more thing to do,” I said.
Rosie waved to Owen and me and made her way back downstairs, her blonde hair swishing side to side as she walked.
I turned my attention to Owen.
“Can you get that program running again, I think I’ve got something,” I said. The tingling feeling I got when an important idea was forming inside my head spread down through my shoulders to my fingertips. “Can you pull up the picture of Annie and overlay it with the one of Busty?”
Owen looked at me with wrinkles appearing between his brows.
“Not side by side? Overlaid means—”
“I know. Overlaid please, Owen,” I said sweetly.
Owen’s cheeks became rosy for what seemed like the hundredth time that day, but he got to work on my request.
“No way,” Owen said when he adjusted the transparency of the images so that we could see them both simultaneously.
“Yes way,” I said. A grin spread so far across my face it transferred to Owen’s face too.
The combined images lined up, clear as day. Busty and Annie were the same person!
“That’s why we haven’t been able to catch sight of Annie coming or g
oing from the house. She’s been masquerading as her own roommate,” I said.
Owen scratched his chin. “How devious,” he said. “We haven’t had a case like this for a long time. Well done, Kacey, you may have cracked this case wide open.”
My chest swelled with energy and excitement. Not half bad for a day’s work, Chance.
Owen was staring at me with big eyes and a smile as if I’d just saved his beloved cat from a runaway dog. He did actually have a cat, although I’d never met him. His name was Einstein. From the photo printout taped to his desktop monitor, I knew Einstein was white, fluffy, but a little scraggly looking, as though he’d gotten his paw stuck in an electric socket. I was confident Owen couldn’t have selected a more appropriate name for him.
I raised my hand and Owen and I high-fived each other on our breakthrough. The movement knocked our shoulders together, which naturally made Owen focus on the stains in the old carpet at our feet.
“Do you want to give the guys the news?” I asked Owen.
“No, course not. It was your find, go for it,” he said, continuing to look at anything in the room except me.
I picked up my purse and pressed the power button on my computer while Owen collected his messenger bag and laptop.
“I’ll give them a call on the way home,” I said.
Owen and I shut off the lights, locked the door, and made our way down to the parking lot.
“Make sure you use headphones,” Owen said when we got outside.
“What?” I asked.
Owen hadn’t spoken for several minutes. Attending to the zippered flaps on his bag had seemed far more pressing than conversation with me.
“Headphones—when you call Harrison while you’re driving, to be safe,” Owen said. He glanced up to make some eye contact between words.
“Of course I will,” I told him. “I am a law-abiding citizen of California, after all.”
Owen gave a small smile. “After what happened at the claimant’s house yesterday, I wasn’t sure. I thought we might have another rule-breaker on our hands.”
I rolled my eyes above a grin and punched him lightly on the arm.
“Goodnight, Owen,” I said, as we both headed to our respective cars.
“Good evening, Kacey.”
CHAPTER 13
When I walked through the door to the office the next morning, I was greeted by applause. It was one person applauding, anyway. Harrison had stood up from his desk and beamed at me from across the room.
“Fantastic job, Kacey. Closing up the case will be much easier, thanks to your quick thinking,” Harrison said. He brought his hand to the edge of his chin and looked up at the ceiling as he wandered out from behind his desk and over toward mine. “You remind me of myself at your age.”
I suppressed my urge to giggle at Harrison’s wistful expression. I dropped my purse beside the computer and leaned against the faux wood laminate surface beside Harrison.
Harrison continued while he looked off into the distance. “You’re determined, punctual, hard working...you bring it all together to get the job done and that’s what we need around here,” he said.
I smiled. I felt much better than I had the other day when Harrison had been cross and dismissive with me. But, if I’d succeeded at proving myself to him, why did I still have a sort of gnawing feeling inside? Owen and I may have discovered a case-altering detail, but that meant that Annie was lying. It meant she was breaking the law.
“Owen helped too,” I said. “If it hadn’t been for his program and the way it got us thinking—”
“I’m sure he did,” Harrison interjected. He often did that when he was concerned the conversation was veering away from the point he wanted to make. “You may have broken this case wide open but it isn’t over yet. Our next step is to collect some footage of Busty...or Annie, I should say, out of the house doing things that she claims to be ‘too injured’ to do.”
I thought about Busty easily helping me up off the sidewalk and bringing me into the house. “When I talked to the Busty version of Annie, she mentioned needing to use a cane to walk. Busty definitely wasn’t using a cane when I saw her. Would that work?” I asked.
“Yes, definitely get some evidence of that. The files mention a neck injury, debilitating headaches, and extreme dizzy spells. If we can get some evidence of Annie going into work and behaving as normal, that should seal the case,” Harrison said.
“That doesn’t sound too difficult,” I said, although what was left to do felt as though it was getting heavier and heavier on my shoulders.
“We can combine it with doing extra credit for the insurance company by casing out the restaurant and its management. It’s possible that other people know about the con, which means they’re involved in fraud,” Harrison said. His words were tumbling out fast. Harrison got like this when he felt on top of a case, hurtling toward the finish line. The bright red ribbon at the end of this race, however, wasn’t something I was sure I wanted to see. As Harrison carried on about gathering the proper evidence, I couldn’t stay focused. The knot in my stomach began tightening like a vice. Annie, and whoever else might be involved, certainly shouldn’t have committed fraud, but they were real people. My “fantastic job” on the case could permanently alter their lives, and it felt as that though I would be solely responsible for busting them.
“...And if we can start investigating the restaurant today, we might be able to include if any of the staff knew about the double identities,” Harrison was saying.
I adjusted my ponytail and swept a few wisps that had sprung free behind my ears. “Right, okay. Got it,” I told him. “Who’s going to do it?”
“You, Kacey. Weren’t you listening?” Harrison asked.
“Sorry,” I replied. I shrugged and forced a smile.
“Lucky’s currently on-shift, staking out the house, and Owen’s taking part of the day off. He mentioned something about the night shifts messing with his circadian rhythms…” Harrison rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.
I nodded. I would much prefer to be struggling with the balance of my sleep cycles than with the balance of my personal ethics and morals, but Harrison wasn’t making my task sound like a choice.
“Where will you be today?” I asked.
Harrison’s eyes widened. “Are you okay, Kacey? I told you a second ago, I’m heading out for a meeting. I’m not sure how long it will take,” he said, and checked his watch. “Head over to the restaurant for an early lunch, in case the place gets busy, and talk to some of the staff. Snoop around the place, if you can.”
“But what if Annie shows up? She’ll recognize me for sure,” I said.
Harrison shook his head. “The last update we had from Owen was that ‘Busty’ arrived home late from her night shift. Lucky took over this morning and hasn’t seen either version of Annie leave the house. Keep your phone on, he knows to update you with any changes.”
I pulled my phone out of my pocket. There were no messages. I tried to swallow but my throat was dry and uncomfortable. I pulled my water bottle out from my purse and took a long swig.
Harrison’s tone softened and he touched me lightly on the arm. “Are you sure you’re doing okay, Kacey?” he said.
“I am. I really am fine,” I said. I did my best to let my own words sink in deeply enough to believe them myself.
Harrison pulled his hand back. “Okay. When you’re at the restaurant, then, pretend to be a friend of Annie’s, maybe she recommended the place to you. Be open and friendly, and use those great instincts you have to get at what the staff may know.”
The case was building up. It was getting to be bigger than I thought it would be.
“I wonder if there’s a real Busty Honey out there, or maybe Annie’s been doing these double shifts for a long time now as part of the con,” I mused.
Harrison shrugged his shoulders. “Hopefully we’ll find out, if you keep up the great work,” he said. He gave me an encouraging smile.
How
could I tell him that it was the idea that I was doing so well on this case that was making me uncomfortable? And now I was charged with seeing how far-reaching this elaborate charade was. How many people could be complicit in the fraud? My stomach clenched again. I clutched at my side and had to grasp onto the edge of my desk to steady myself.
Harrison raised his eyebrows and leaned in closer again. Then a wash of recognition spread across his face and the tips of his ears reddened. His voice softened again. “Ah, is it…is it just that time? The time of the...uh—”
“Sure.” I said flatly. It wasn’t, but I wasn’t about to get into the details of my monthly cycle with my boss. He’d provided me with a simple explanation for my discomfort so I took it. Tah-dah! Improve. The tension inside subsided. I was able to let the grimace leave my face.
Harrison’s taut shoulders lowered too. His changing tone, from deeper and energetic to softer and more gentle, reminded me of being in Annie’s home two days earlier. When Busty had left me in the bathroom in search of Band-Aids, I’d overheard part of a conversation. Did my recent discovery mean she’d faked it?
“I heard two voices in the other room that day,” I said. “If Busty faked her conversation, and she was the only one in that room, that’s impressive. I was convinced there were two people in that room.”
Harrison shrugged. “You had no reason to suspect otherwise at the time, and besides, Annie could have had help that day. Maybe Busty Honey is her roommate, but with all the makeup and wigs we haven’t been able to discern the difference when one of them leaves the house,” he said.
Another thought pulled at my conflicted brain. “Busty didn’t get suspicious until the end, though. It seems strange she’d go to the trouble to stage a conversation for a complete stranger to overhear…” I said.
Harrison paused briefly. “You’re not wrong, but this woman could be very well practiced at this type of fraud, for all we know. Maybe she was grooming you to be a witness on her side before you tipped her off with that drop of blood near the cabinet.”
Harrison and I were both silent for a moment.