“Good afternoon. Welcome to the The Parisian Pâtisserie.”
“Hello,” he said, his voice low and raspy. “You’re still open?” His accent reminded her a little of the northeast coast, but she couldn’t quite place it.
“Yes. Still have a few pastries left, though it is near the end of the day. If you’d like anything, consider it fifty percent off.” She flashed a smile, but he didn’t return it. Something about the man made her uncomfortable. It wasn’t exactly that he was threatening, but he seemed to be taking in more of the shop and her than he was the pastries. “Are you looking for something specific? We do custom orders as well.”
“I, uh…” He rubbed a hand along his jaw and considered the glass case before him. “Yeah. What do you have to specially order?”
His answer surprised her, but she was able to recover before her response hinted at that. “I have an order sheet in the back. I’ll go get it.”
“Great. Thanks.”
She turned to go, but just as she was walking into the backroom through the swinging doors, she noticed him move in the shiny reflection of a metal print on the wall. He was definitely moving toward the cash register. Her heart began to hammer as she slipped into the back. She had a camera positioned right over the register—a precaution Adam had insisted on—and now she was glad for it. If she was going to be robbed, she was going to make sure it was on tape.
Rushing through the kitchen to her office, she clicked a window on her computer and brought up the feed from the front room. There the man was, leaning over the counter. She picked up her phone, primed to call 9-1-1, when the man’s hand slipped below the counter nowhere near the register.
Her finger hovered over the home button on her phone but she waited, watching. He fumbled around a little bit and then snatched something in his hands. She leaned closer to the monitor, but couldn’t tell what it was that he had. As he straightened, she realized he might leave before she had a chance to confront him about what he’d taken, and she rushed out of the backroom toward the doors leading to the front.
The moment she burst through the doors, her heart sank with the sound of the front door chimes. He was gone.
She turned her phone on and scrolled through for Adam’s number, pressing the call button as she came back around the counter. What had the man been looking for? What had he taken?
“Hello?” Adam’s calm voice came across her speaker as she continued to shuffle through the contents under the counter.
“Adam. Someone just took something from me.”
He paused before speaking. “Like…stole something? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she said, then filled him in about the guy, ending with, “But I can’t seem to figure out what he—” She paused in her search and stood up slowly.
“Margot? What is it?”
“I think I know what he took.”
“What?”
Margot frowned, wondering what this meant. Who had that guy been?
“Margot, what did he take?”
“I think he took the keys to Bentley’s apartment.”
10
Adam picked Margot up less than ten minutes later and sped through the streets toward Bentley’s apartment.
“I sent the photo you took of the man to my tech guy. He will call me when—or if—he gets a match on the man’s identity.”
“Is Bentley going to be all right?” The minute Margot had hung up with Adam, she’d tried to call Bentley, but he hadn’t answered. That fact had only worried her more.
“I put in a call to the complex to make sure they went to check on him. I also sent the nearest squad car over there to check in on him and we’ll be there before we know it. The man hadn’t left much after you called me, right?”
“Right.” She worried her bottom lip and watched the trees and buildings fly past them, her heart thudding in her chest. She should have called the police immediately or not gone to the back or—
She pressed her eyes closed and took a deep breath. No, she couldn’t blame herself for what this man had chosen to do. There was no way she would have known that he was up to no good—feelings could often be misleading.
“He’ll be okay,” Adam said, sending her a quick, sympathetic look before he pulled into the parking lot of the senior complex. A police car sat at the entrance to the facility and Margot began to breathe more easily. They were almost to Bentley’s. He would be all right.
The moment Adam stopped the car, Margot was outside and rushing toward Bentley’s apartment with Adam on her heels. They rushed up the steps and she took in a deep draught of air when she saw Bentley standing in the doorway with the policeman, smiling and talking.
“Margot, what’s this all about?” Bentley said, tossing up his hands. “This young man was on patrol and winds up at my door. How does that happen?” He sent her a pointed look.
“Detective,” the officer said with a polite nod.
“Thanks so much, Officer McKenna. You’re free to go,” Adam said.
“Good to talk to you, Mister Anderson. Hope you have a nice day.”
“You too, son. Tell that boy of yours it’s a great profession to be a lawyer.”
The young officer laughed and nodded. “I’ll be sure to do that.”
Margot felt her pulse slow as she saw her friend smiling in front of her. But it still didn’t take away from the fact that someone now had keys to his apartment.
“Care to tell me what’s going on?” Bentley asked Adam.
“Why don’t we go inside and we’ll fill you in?”
Margot noticed the way Adam’s gaze searched the surrounding area, always looking and observing. She recognized the behavior from her late husband and his tendency to take in every bit of information he could. She slid past him into the apartment and felt better when she heard the lock slide closed. Even if the man had Bentley’s keys, they’d hear anyone trying to get in.
“Spill,” Bentley said, his pointed gaze boring into her.
She almost wanted to laugh at the fact he knew it was her doing that they were there, and not Adam’s, but now wasn’t a time for laughter.
“I was at the shop today, getting ready to close up, when a man came by.” She could recall his face easily enough, but he didn’t look familiar in any way. “He asked to see my special orders menu and I went into the back to get it, but noticed he’d moved toward the cash register.”
“Are you okay?” Bentley asked, concern immediately marring his features.
“I’m fine, but he took your keys.”
“He what?” Bentley tried to make sense of what she’d said.
“I keep a copy of your keys at the shop, just because sometimes I’ll bring you lunch or Rosie will or something. I stopped keeping them at my place because I was usually going to visit you after work and it’s faster.”
“So some guy has the keys to my apartment? What would he want with an old man like me?”
“That’s the question,” Adam said, crossing his arms over his chest. “And I have a feeling it has to do with your son.”
“This man was my son?”
“No.” Margot shook her head. “I’ve never seen him before, but obviously with everything going on, someone wants to get to you.”
Bentley tossed up his hands in a sign of frustration. “Why? I’m nothing, nobody. I didn’t even know my son.” His last words came out as a realization more than anything else, their edges tinted with hurt.
“I'm sorry, Bentley,” Margot said, coming up next to him and resting her hand on his shoulder. “I know this doesn’t make any sense yet, but hopefully it will very soon.”
“What am I supposed to do in the meantime?” He looked closed to desperation.
“Come stay with me,” Adam said, surprising both Margot and Bentley.
“Really?” they said in unison.
“Yep. I’ve got a great security system and you’ll be safe. Beats living in a place someone has the keys to. We’ll get the complex t
o rekey your locks and you can be back here soon, but until then, I really think you’ll be safest at my place.”
“Thank you, Adam,” Bentley said, his smile genuine. “I’d be grateful to stay with you.”
They spent the next fifteen minutes helping Bentley pack up what he would need and then were just heading out the door when Adam got a call.
“Go ahead and take him down to the car, I’ve got to take this.” When Margot gave him a questioning look, he covered the microphone and said, “It’s my tech about the photo.”
Margot felt a jolt of anticipation but nodded, guiding Bentley out the door, some of his luggage slung over her shoulder. She wished she could listen in on the conversation to find out what Adam’s tech had found, but she hoped that he would share with her as soon as they got Bentley settled.
Who had the man been? The only likely reason he would steal Bentley’s keys was that he was some how connected to Ben Anderson. It felt like a stretch to guess that, but after everything that had gone on surrounding Ben, it was the only logical explanation.
And where was Ben anyway? Why hadn’t he resurfaced? Or had he put the man up to snatching the keys so that he could meet with his father himself? That seemed less likely—Ben seemed like the type of man to work alone—but Margot had to admit she knew very little about her friend’s son.
They arrived at Adam’s car and she popped the trunk, again surprised at how clean he kept his car. After stowing Bentley’s luggage, he got in back and she slipped into the front seat, locking the doors behind her. It was a habit she’d gotten into long ago and something she wasn't going to break now.
As they waited for Adam, she made small talk with Bentley, but it was strained. It was obvious his mind was on what was going on and not their conversation. Finally, she fell silent and waited. Her gaze snagged on the apartment complex sign then moved along until it grazed over the steps leading up to Bentley’s apartment. She could see Adam, still on the phone, pacing back and forth. After watching for a few minutes, she looked around again until movement caught her attention at the opposite end of the parking lot. Narrowing her eyes, she realized what she was seeing was a shoulder and the shadowy shape of a head outlined against a tree.
Someone was watching them.
She opened her mouth to say something to Bentley when she saw movement to her right. Her head yanked around and she took in a deep breath when she saw that it was Adam. Immediately, she turned back to the tree, but the person was gone.
Adam slid in, turning the key in the ignition, and she almost said something, but then closed her mouth. Bentley was already worried over someone having his keys and Margot didn’t want to disturb him further with what she thought she’d seen. She’d tell Adam, but she’d wait until they got to his place and she could tell him privately.
“I think I’m just going to take a rest. That okay with you, Adam?” Bentley asked after they had transitioned all of his things to Adam’s guest bedroom.
“Of course, Bentley,” Adam said, resting his hand on the man’s shoulder. “You do whatever you like. My home is your home—and I mean that.”
“Thank you. Night, Margot.”
“Good night,” she said, offering him an encouraging smile. He’d been through a lot in the last few days.
She and Adam made their way back out to the living room and then to the kitchen. Adam began pulling down bowls to make them a salad and she rested up against the cabinets, watching him.
“Well?” she finally said.
“I was waiting to see how long it took you to ask me what my call was about.” He grinned at her and she returned it, but felt the smile fade too quickly. She went on to tell him about the figure she thought she’d seen at the complex.
Adam’s brow furrowed and he set down the lettuce he’d been holding. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wasn’t fully certain I’d seen someone. Besides, I thought Bentley had been through enough for a day.”
He nodded, but turned pensive. “Still, that’s not good. If you did see someone, it’s possible it’s who my tech told me about.”
“Which is?”
He grimaced. “I really shouldn’t tell you.”
“But you’re going to,” she said with a sly smile, slipping up to him and taking his hands in hers. “Right?”
He let out a sigh of defeat, winked, and then turned back to the salad preparations. “Of course I am.”
“And?” She bounced on the tip of her toes with anticipation.
“He’s a man named Russ Soto.” Adam began slicing a carrot. “He’s known in many states—”
“Let me guess,” she interrupted. “On the East Coast—particularly in the north?”
“Exactly.” Adam smiled. “I just know not to ask how you know these things anymore.”
“It was his accent. He said a few words differently and I couldn’t help but think it was a northeastern accent—coastal by the sound of it.”
“Well, you’re right on. He was born and raised in Connecticut, but took his thieving ways all up and down the East Coast. And you’ll never guess who his partners were.”
“Terry Guzman and Frank Harper?”
“Exactly.” Adam reached for a stalk of celery. “Turns out they’ve run a few scams, but have avoided getting caught so far.”
“But now two of them are dead.”
“And two of them—along with Ben Anderson—were at The Garber.”
“Do you think Russ was there as well?” Margot asked.
“I think there’s a good possibility. I’ve got a call in to The Garber and will have someone look into it for me. It could mean running through a lot of video footage, but there are programs that can help with that.”
“If he was there, what do you think the angle was?”
Adam put down his knife and tossed the ingredients of the salad together with two wooden spoons. “That’s just it. I'm not sure.”
“Do you think they were all working together?” she mused. It seemed like an elaborate scheme but for a place like The Garber, that would make sense. Then again, while she didn’t know Ben, she had a feeling she knew his process, or could at least guess at it. He seemed methodical, planned, and someone who worked alone.
Of course, all of these ideas were untested.
“It’s possible, but I need to find out more information. Besides, then there’s the whole angle of Bentley and what Russ would want with his apartment keys.”
Margot picked up the bowls of salad topped with chicken and dressing and brought them to the small kitchen dinning nook. Adam followed her with two glasses of water and then returned with forks for them both.
They dug into their salads, letting thoughtful silence fall between them for a few minutes. Margot thought through what Adam had said, but there was no answer yet. They had to have more information, like if Russ Soto was at The Garber as well and if there had been any connection between him and Ben in the past.
Then a thought occurred to Margot. “What was stolen from The Garber?”
Adam looked up, swallowing before answering. “I’ve got a list in my office, but not much, actually.”
Margot nodded.
“What?” Adam asked, looking suspicious.
“I don’t know. Just thinking through all angles.”
He looked as if he were going to argue with her to find out what she was thinking, but nodded instead.
“Just make sure you tell me when you come to a conclusion.” He winked and went back to his salad.
She appreciated the time to think through her ideas. There was nothing concrete yet, but she knew one thing. She wouldn't rest until she uncovered Ben Anderson’s involvement in The Garber Resort theft.
11
After a quick call to make sure that Bentley’s first night at Adam’s had gone well, Margot headed into the bakery a little later than usual. She knew that Julia and Dexter would already have the baking taken care of, which would free her up to check on something she should hav
e the night before.
Cameras. It had hit her just as she was going to sleep the night before. She had seen the shop next door, a cute boutique spa shop called Essence, install outdoor cameras a few months back. At first she’d laughed good-naturedly at the new owner’s obvious anxiety—it was a small town with a low crime rate—but then she’d remembered her own indoor camera and sobered quickly. Who knew when a precaution may become necessary.
Then, just yesterday, she’d had such a day. In her haste to get to Bentley, she’d completely forgotten about the camera, but when her mind began to slow down, allowing everything to filter in through her subconscious, she’d realized that she had to see what the camera had caught—if it had captured anything.
Without stopping at the bakery first, Margot opened the vintage paned door and entered the spa’s calming atmosphere. She’d taken Tamera here for her birthday just a few weeks ago and was already looking forward to coming back. The scent of cucumber and lemon from the water pitcher in the corner greeted her, as well as the sound of trickling water as it dripped down smooth stones in the water feature that took a prominent place in the front window.
“Good morning,” a soothing voice said.
Margot looked up from her mesmerized glance at the trickling water to meet the vibrant green eyes of the owner, Cassie.
“Hello, Cassie,” Margot said, stepping toward the woman.
“Oh, Margot,” she said, coming close and embracing her, “it’s so good to see you again. And so soon. What can we do for you? A message possibly? You look tense.”
Cassie exuded an air of calm about her that Margot had liked immediately when she’d first met the woman. She had short, curly blonde hair and her lean frame spoke of a yoga habit.
“Actually, I’m here for something a little less…relaxing.”
A Deadly Engagement (Margot Durand Cozy Mystery Book 9) Page 7
