by Edwin Dasso
The fake Keith stood outside the Italian restaurant as Tori came around the corner.
“My secretary ate here over the weekend and raved about the place,” Keith said, escorting her inside.
As they were seated, Tori took her phone out of her purse and laid it on her lap, prepared to get some shots of her lunch date. Noticing Keith’s eyes appeared to be fixed on her phone, she said, “I’m expecting a call about my house. If it comes through during lunch, I’ll make it quick.”
Once they had placed their orders, he asked, “Will you be able to move back into your house soon?”
“That’s what I’m expecting the contractor to tell me.”
“Have you had a chance to check the gallery’s schedule?”
“Yes. There is an event on Saturday night that I should attend,” Tori lied, but figured by then the imposter would know his cover had been blown. Maybe he’ll be in jail. “My phone is vibrating.” She picked it up. When the busboy went by with dishes rattling on his tray, Tori snapped a picture of the man across the table. “It’s not the contractor.”
As the waitress delivered their salads, Keith asked, “Will you be able to go the following weekend?”
Tori picked up her fork. “Yes. It’ll be fun going to a cabin and boating on a lake,” she replied though she’d never consider going anywhere with him. “Do you fish?”
While they ate, the imposter told her about his childhood fishing experiences until the waitress gathered up their salad plates and placed their meals on the table.
“This Chicken Parmesan looks delicious.” Tori took a bite. “It is. Now I know why your secretary raved about the place.”
Tori managed to take a picture of the imposter each time she checked her phone. With the quick shots, she guessed some would be blurry, but hoped his face could be clearly seen on at least one of them.
Not wanting to spend any more time with the phony, she dabbed her napkin over her lips. “Keith, I hate to just eat and run, but I have a lot of work that needs to be finished today.”
“I also have to go. Can I take you to dinner Friday night?”
“Sure. Maybe I’ll be back in my house by then.”
“I’d like a tour of your place before we go to dinner.”
“Even if I can move back, some of the work won’t be finished. So, I could only give you a partial tour.” Tori slipped her phone back into her purse and stood up.
Keith rose to his feet. “I’ll call you later in the week.”
Tori plastered a fake smile on her face. “Talk to you later.” She walked out of the restaurant, leaving the imposter standing by the table.
When she returned to the gallery, she strolled through it, looking for Jerry. He was nowhere in sight. She knew he could’ve surveyed the paintings in the length of time she had been gone. Still, she wondered if he was keeping tabs on her. If so, is he also somehow connected to Fackrell? The first time she’d asked him to search the surveillance camera’s recording for someone leaving a box outside Brandon’s door, she thought Jerry might’ve been responsible for it. But then he had seemed so concerned about the erased frames, she dismissed her suspicion. Seeing him at the gallery, revived her suspicions again.
Once back in her office, Tori went through the pictures of the imposter. Over half were fuzzy, but a couple captured his face clearly. Armed with the photos, she took the rest of the day off and headed to the hospital.
13
Tori stepped out of the hospital elevator and cautiously made her way to Ashley’s corridor, trying to avoid being seen by anyone on the staff who might insist no visitors were allowed outside visiting hours. She slowly opened Ashley’s door a few inches, snuck in, and closed the door behind her. Tori breathed a sigh of relief and then said, “Hi, pretty lady!”
Ashley looked up from her magazine, gave her a big smile, and mouthed “Hi.”
Tori took the chair next to the bed. She hated lying to her friend, but to avoid saying Keith Dreyer, there was no other option. “I’ve ran into a guy a few times who I met at your party. He’s asked me to meet him for drinks. It’s driving me crazy trying to remember his name. I snapped a couple of pictures of him when he wasn’t looking.” Tori brought his picture up on her phone and held it in front of Ashley. “Do you recognize him?”
Nodding, Ashley picked up her notepad and wrote, “You just left my store when he came in. Store wasn’t opened yet. Dave’s his first name. Can’t remember his last. You dropped a scarf outside the door. He came in with it and asked for your phone number. I said I’d give you the scarf. He wanted to return it personally. Probably wanted to see you again. I told him where you worked. Nothing else. Dave wasn’t invited to my party.”
“He must’ve crashed it.” Tori seldom wore scarves and doubted she had worn one the day she went to Ashley’s store, the morning of the party. Had the imposter followed her from her house and concocted the scarf story at the last minute?
Ashley scrawled again. “Extra invites were on the counter. Maybe he took one.”
“How did he know I’d be at your party?”
Ashley shrugged and then wrote, “Cause you and I are friends.”
“Yeah, that could be it,” Tori said, wondering if he had also followed her there.
A nurse took a step into the room. “Miss, Ashley needs rest. You can come back during regular visiting hours.”
Tori felt disappointed she only got the imposter’s first name. With a first name like Dave, doubt it’ll be very helpful to the police. She stroked Ashley’s arm. “I’ll come back later in the week.”
Ashley mouthed, “See you.”
Walking toward the elevator, Tori passed Ashley’s good-looking doctor. She glanced over her shoulder and watched him slip into Ashley’s room. Tori wondered if he was making a professional stop or a friendly visit. She hoped it was the latter.
As she climbed into her car, her cell phone rang. She pulled it out of her purse and looked at the screen. “Hello, Mr. Rice,” she answered, thinking he could’ve received permission to discuss the case with her.
“Mrs. Burgess, my client has consented to share some of the information I’ve gathered in my investigation with you providing you are willing to share in a portion of my expenses.”
That was something Tori had not expected. “How much is the information going to cost me?”
“Five thousand. My client doesn’t want the money to lead to her. Therefore, it must be a cash transaction.”
Tori gulped. Did the client really request that or is Trent Rice trying to make additional money for work he has already completed? How am I going to get the money? Her last resort bounced around in her head. With Brandon and her both in danger from Fackrell, she might need whatever the investigator had to offer. “Before I commit, can you tell me anything about the information to help me determine if it’s that valuable?”
“I’ve been in this business for fifteen years. Your money will be well spent.”
“Where and when do you want to meet?”
“Tomorrow at four. My office.”
“The address?”
“It’s online.” He disconnected.
Tori dropped her cell phone in her purse, lowered her head, and stared at the car mat. Is Rice a shake down artist? She rubbed her forehead. Before this whole mess popped up, money was tight, but I never considered tapping into that account.
Her thoughts moved to the Keith imposter. She wanted more than just his picture and first name before reporting him to the police. Tori couldn’t imagine that two isolated crimes were happening around her at the same time. She reasoned that more than likely they were somehow connected. Rice was going to give her information about Fackrell and it could answer the question that had been buzzing in her head—Is the imposter Fackrell? The investigator, who had assumed Rice’s identity, said Fackrell was clean-shaven. He could’ve claimed that just so she wouldn’t suspect the fake Keith Dreyer.
A dog in the next car barked, snapping Tori back to the present. She checked
her watch—4:32 p.m. Knowing the bank would be closing soon, she started the engine and drove away from the hospital.
At the bank she withdrew $5,000 from a joint account Brandon had left in place for her. An account she had sworn she’d never touch. Brandon received the statements for that account. Since he was out of the country, she doubted the statements would be forwarded to him and she also doubted he’d check it online. Maybe when he notices the withdrawal, Fackrell will be behind bars again and Brandon will be safe.
14
Tori had reserved a room for the night at a nearby hotel. She was packing a bag at Brandon’s apartment when he called.
“Sorry I couldn’t return your call earlier. Did the investigator finally give you a picture of Fackrell?”
“I’m still waiting,” she replied. Tori didn’t want Brandon to know the investigator was a fake. Telling him that could be the catalyst for him to return to the States. Keeping Brandon in England had become her top priority.
“Griffin left me a message,” Brandon said, referring to the contractor. “He’s under the impression you plan to move back into the house tomorrow. Hadn’t we put that to rest?”
She couldn’t hide the irritation in her tone. “No, we hadn’t.” Brandon wanted her to stay at his place until the work was finished. She’d never completely agreed to that. “And when I talked to Griffin, he mentioned a pipe investigation. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Tori, it isn’t anything you need to be concerned about.”
“It involves my house. I should at least know about it. Are you suing the pipe company?”
“Yes, but after they examined the leakages, they’re claiming the pipe connections had been severed or taken apart, nothing that resulted from failed pipes.”
“Are you telling me that someone did that damage on purpose?”
“That’s what the company is claiming.”
Tori’s pulse quickened and she hesitated before attempting a calm response. “Why would someone do that?”
“That’s what is being investigated. A few things didn’t go smoothly with that company when they were doing the work. As a result, my attorney was involved and the company ended up not receiving the total amount they had billed.”
“But Brandon that was eight years ago. If they held a grudge and sabotaged the plumbing system, surely it would’ve shown up before now.”
“I agree, but that’s all I’ve been able to come up with.”
Tori sensed an uneasiness in Brandon’s voice. “Why didn’t you tell me? Do you think Fackrell could be behind the plumbing problem?”
“That has crossed my mind, but I doubt he has the technical skills to disable the alarm system and do that much damage to the plumbing in one day.”
“Brandon, don’t you remember I went to my aunt’s funeral in California and discovered the mess in the house when I came home. Someone could’ve spent a weekend doing that damage.”
“I’d totally forgotten,” his voice trailed off.
“That’s probably because you had already left for England. Let’s say Fackrell has a friend who knows how to disarm security systems,” Tori said, thinking about exact happenings at Brandon’s apartment. “What would he gain by doing that?”
“Besides forcing you to temporarily move out, I don’t know, but I do know you are safer at my place than at the house as long as Fackrell’s looking for revenge.”
With frightening incidents ramping up at Brandon’s apartment, Tori knew that wasn’t the case. I’ll probably be safer anywhere else than here.
Brandon continued. “Once all the work on the house is finished, the security system is going to be upgraded. That will include more outside motion detectors and surveillance cameras along with some enhanced features which will make it difficult, if not impossible, to disarm it without the code. After the installation, you’ll be completely safe there. Until then, promise me you won’t stay at our house.”
Tori assumed that in addition to not staying at her house, Brandon also meant the promise included her staying at his place, but he neglected to say that. With a forced lilt in her voice, she said, “I promise.”
“Good. Now I can sleep better. Besides the house, was there anything else you wanted to talk about?”
“No, that covers it. I went to visit Ashley again. Her mom’s having a small birthday party for her at the hospital. She invited me and wants you to come. I explained why you wouldn’t be able to make it.”
“Never been to a hospital birthday party before.”
“Neither have I. This will be a first.”
“When’s the party?”
“Wednesday.”
“Would you consider adding my name to whatever you give her?”
Since Brandon had sent a bouquet to Ashley with Tori’s name on it, she thought it was only fair to reciprocate. “I can do that.”
“Call if anything comes up or when you receive the picture of Fackrell from the investigator.”
“Will do. Goodnight, Brandon.”
“Goodnight, Tori.”
Every time she had spoken to him on the phone, she picked up a sadness in his tone as the call was ending. Is it my imagination or does he really feel sad? If he is sad, it’s my fault. To ease her conscience, Tori wanted to hang on to the possibility that Brandon had an affair, but the digitally altered picture lingered in her mind. What’s wrong with me? Why wouldn’t I believe my husband?
A half an hour later, Tori stepped out of the elevator into the lobby. She could feel Jerry’s eyes on her back as she walked to the parking garage elevator.
“Are you moving out of the apartment building?” he asked.
She partially turned toward him. “No. I’m taking a few things to a sick friend.” Tori had no intention of letting Jerry know she wouldn’t be sleeping in Brandon’s apartment. He still remained on her list of suspects who could’ve delivered the black roses. Since she’d left most of her things in Brandon’s apartment, if the intruder entered again, it would appear she planned to return.
A faint smile creased Jerry’s lip. “Then I’ll be seeing you later.”
“Yes. Good evening, Jerry.”
Tori checked into the Starden Hotel and extended her stay for an additional night. She hoped that the information she received from the investigator would be enough for the police to take action against Fackrell. Then Brandon would no longer need to be concerned about her safety when she returned to her house.
Using a keycard, she unlocked the door, went inside, and scanned the nicely furnished room. Tori bolted the door and put a chair in front of it, thinking the noise of it tipping over would wake her.
She set the wake-up alarm on her cell phone and put it on the nightstand.
While she watched the late news on the television, her cell rang. Tori glanced at the screen—Unidentified caller. So it wouldn’t ring again, she turned off her phone and attempted to set the clock on the nightstand. After working on it for five minutes, she gave up and scheduled a wake-up call.
15
Walking toward the Seashore Gallery, Tori felt refreshed after sleeping better without worrying about an intruder and another black rose showing up in her bed. As she got closer to the gallery, she spotted the back of a man who reminded her of Jerry near the entrance. He appeared to be looking toward the gallery’s parking lot. In case it was Jerry, she swung around and turned onto the next block. She meandered up and down a few sidewalks and then headed toward the gallery from the direction of Brandon’s apartment building.
Jerry strode toward her. “Good morning, Mrs. Burgess. I don’t recall you returning to the apartment building last night.”
“I decided to stay at my friend’s house.”
“Will you be returning to the apartment building today?”
“Perhaps,” Tori said, irritation evident in her tone. She had no intention of making it easy for him to follow her, which she assumed was the reason he’d asked.
“Then perhaps, I’ll see you late
r.”
“Have a nice day, Jerry.” She walked around him and headed to the gallery entrance. Opening the door, Tori glanced at Jerry and saw him talking into his cell phone. Is Fackrell on the other end of the line?
Her desk phone message light blinked as she stepped into her office.
Ignoring it, she pulled her cell out of her purse and then locked her purse in the bottom desk drawer. With $5,000 in it, she needed to make sure it would be secure whenever she left her office.
Tori lifted up her phone’s receiver, pushed the message button, and heard she had five new messages. The first two only consisted of a series of clicks.
The third one came from Brandon. “Why aren’t you answering your cell phone? Call me.”
Message four was also a series of clicks.
The last message was from Mandy. “Call me.”
Guessing she had just as many missed calls on her cell phone, Tori pushed it on and saw six missed calls. One call from “unidentified caller” came in the prior night. The other five calls were received that morning—four from Brandon. Did he somehow learn that I didn’t stay at his apartment last night? Or does he know that I took some money out of the account? The final call was from Mandy. The “unidentified caller’ had left a message. Tori figured it was only heavy breathing and didn’t tap on it. Brandon had left only one message. It was similar to the one on her office phone. Mandy’s message was exactly the same as the prior one Tori heard.
Since Mandy’s call came in shortly after Brandon’s last one, Tori thought he had called Mandy when he couldn’t reach her. Before returning Brandon’s call, she decided to call Mandy to see if she could shed any light on why he seemed anxious to reach her.
“Hey,” Mandy answered. “Brandon called. He’s worried about you.”
“Why? I talked to him last night.”
“He tried calling you this morning. Your cell went straight to voicemail. He called me to find out if you stayed here last night. That caught me off guard. I had no idea what to say. If you want me to cover for you, you need to warn me.”
