A Deadly Engagement (Margot Durand Cozy Mystery Book 9)

by Danielle Collins

  The pieces began to fall into place for Margot.

  “I happened to be a better thie— Uh, better at my job than Russ is, and more discrete as well. Back then, I was also much more cocky.” Ben had the decency to look ashamed. “Rather than finish what I was doing and get out of there…I decided to pull a little prank.”

  Margot had a feeling she knew where this was going, but asked anyway. “What happened?”

  “Let’s just say that I publically humiliated Russ and got away—er, left with—more than my fair share of the…job.”

  If the situation weren’t so serious, Margot would have laughed at how badly Ben was keeping his profession under wraps.

  “It was foolish, I admit that now, but apparently it began some type of personal vendetta from Russ toward me.”

  “So you showed up at The Garber and found him there?”

  “Not exactly.” He scanned the room again. “I happened to catch a glimpse of Frank and knew that he’d worked with Russ in the past. I didn’t think much of it. The Garber is a…” He paused, looking for the right word. “…a popular pace for people in my line of work. Though most don’t fare well there.”

  “I can imagine.” Margot was still shocked that criminals even considered it, what with all of the security.

  “Anyway, when I saw Terry, I really knew something was up. I like to keep tabs on those…doing what I do. I’d last heard that Terry was working with Russ and knew Frank had also worked with him in the past. I put two and two together.”

  “That seems like a large assumption.”

  “You don’t get to be as good as I am without learning a few things, Missus Durand.” His knowledge of her continued to surprise her. “But yes, I did some double-checking and found a popular alias Russ likes to use on the guest list for the gala.”

  “But you still went?”

  Ben offered her a cocky smile. “I also haven’t gotten where I am today by being cautious.”

  She shook her head. Ben was certainly cocky, and yet there was something else about him that didn’t quite add up.

  “So why come here?”

  He blinked at her rapid change in topic. “My father.”

  “But…why?”

  “Look…” He steepled his fingers, a move that reminded her of Bentley, and leveled his gaze at her. “I’ve spent most of my life not even knowin’ who my father was. I was a cocky kid going around taking out my hurt on the world—or so the shrinks would say. I ended up taking care of my mother at…the end, God rest her soul,” he swallowed, “and she shared about who my dad was. I hadn’t expected her to ever give me that information, but she did. And, because of that, I felt obliged to find out who he was.”

  “And you found Bentley.”

  “I did.” Ben rubbed his chin, momentarily distracted by movement at the front door. It was a local fisherman Margot had seen around town and Ben seemed to come to the same assessment as he turned back to her. “I found my father several months ago. I actually came and almost met him, but something held me back. Fear probably, maybe something else, I don’t know. But I kept that under wraps. In my business, there’s nothing worse than having someone you care about. It’s called leverage.”

  Margot nodded, and then a piece clicked. “Frank Harper knew about your father.”

  “Exactly.” Ben’s gaze held a weight that made Margot’s stomach churn. “I think it was—and probably still is—all part of Russ’s plan. He’s never forgiven me for Palm Beach and I think he wants to make me pay.”

  Margot swallowed. To what lengths would Russ go to find Bentley?

  “Do you know where Russ is?”

  “No,” Ben said, then his head snapped to the front of the Pauly’s again. “You brought company?”

  Dread settled in Margot’s stomach. “No, of course not—” She turned to look outside and saw the familiar shape of Adam walking up to the bar. When she turned back, Ben was gone.

  “I just don’t understand why you don’t trust me, Margie.” The hurt in Adam’s voice was enough to make Margot feel like her heart was halved in two. They walked down the darkened street toward where she’d parked a few blocks away from Pauly’s.

  “It’s not that at all, Adam, of course I trust you, but—”

  “But you’d rather play by a criminal’s rules than trust your fiancé.”

  “Oh, now you call me your fiancée.” The words slipped out before she could help herself.

  “Margie…” Adam stopped walking and turned toward her. “What’s going on?”

  She hated feeling like this. Helpless to make herself known. She wrapped her arms around herself and met his gaze. “I'm sorry I didn’t tell you I was going to meet with Ben.”

  “You realize it could have been seen as obstruction of justice? He’s a wanted criminal.”

  She swallowed. “I know, but…” How could she make him see that she’d had the best of intentions? “I just wanted to know what was going on.”

  “I could have wired you.” He sighed and took her hand in his. “But first, tell me what you meant. About the fiancée comment.”

  She’d hoped to distract him from that, but she should have known better. “I guess I just feel hurt that you didn’t want to tell anyone. There I was, with your whole family who all knows about our engagement, and yet none of my friends, who are like family, can know yet. I know we’re in the middle of this case and it shouldn't matter, but…” She looked down at her bare left hand. “But I want to show off my ring. I want to celebrate with my friends. I want to call you my fiancé.”

  A weight left her chest as she admitted the words to him. It felt good to say it out loud, despite the fact that it also felt foolish. They were hoping to catch a killer and she was unhappy over not being able to call Adam her fiancé. It was foolish, but she was finally realizing how much it had affected her.

  “I had no idea you felt this way.”

  “I should have told you before.”

  He stepped closer, pulling her into his arms. “I’m sorry, Margie. I should have asked you how you felt. I just assumed you understood.”

  “I should have spoken up.”

  They stood there, looking into each other’s eyes for a few minutes. Adam finally leaned down and kissed her, warmth at the touch of his lips spreading through her. When he pulled back, he reached up and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear.

  “Do you forgive me?”

  “Of course,” she said without hesitation.

  “But please, please, don’t set up meetings with known criminals by yourself no matter what they promise you.”

  She was about to reply when his phone went off. He pulled it out of his pocket and looked down at it. “Duty calls,” he said, stepping back.

  They began walking again as Adam accepted the call. He was quiet for a few minutes before he spoke, the tone of his words shattering their momentary peace.

  “We’ll be right there.”

  “What is it?” Margot asked the instant he hung up.

  “It’s Bentley,” he said, meeting her gaze. “He’s been abducted.”

  13

  Margot felt like she was walking through molasses as they approached Adam’s home. The red and blue lights of the squad cars parked out front only added to the surreal feeling of the scene before her. This couldn’t be happening.

  “It’s going to be all right, Margot,” Adam said, his expression hardened by determination. “We’re going to find him, I promise.”

  She walked up to the house beside Adam, feeling numb. The warm blast of air from inside greeted her, but did noting to distract from the reason she was there. Bentley was gone and they didn’t know who had taken him.

  “Sir, I think you should see this,” a young officer said, directing Adam through to the kitchen.

  Margot stayed in the living room, arms warped around herself again as she considered the facts. She had been talking with Ben when Bentley was taken, which left Russ as the only option. She hadn’t really consid
ered Ben, but she knew the police would be thinking that. But what would Adam think?

  “Margot, I think you need to see this.”

  Pulled from her thoughts, Margo turned to see Adam with a note in a plastic bag. She came toward him and took the note.

  One million in cash—unmarked bills—delivered to Blue Bus locker 437 by 6 am.

  - Ben

  Margot met Adam’s gaze. “He can’t be serious.”

  “Ben?”

  “No.” Margot shook her head. “This is not from Ben.”

  “Margot, I think you need to realize that you were set up.”

  She blinked. “What?”

  “Ben met with you to distract you—and me—from watching Bentley. I got a text from an unknown number telling me to come down to Pauly’s. Ben wants you to think that he’s innocent, but he’s really working with Russ Soto to get at Bentley’s money.”

  “Bentley’s— What are you talking about?”

  Adam looked at the officer. “Can you give us a minute?”

  “Of course.” The officer left them alone and Adam refocused on Margot.

  “Bentley has quite a bit of savings…enough to cover this ransom demand and possibly more. My theory is that Ben found out about it and decided to pull a con on his own father.”

  Margot shook her head. “No. Th-that can’t be it. He told me—”

  “What he wanted you to hear.”

  Margot’s brow furrowed. Was it possible she’d been conned by a conman? She thought back to her conversation with Ben and how genuine he’d seemed. It was possible that he really was that good at deception, but she had felt something genuine about him.

  “May I see Bentley’s room?”

  Adam looked surprised by the request, but shrugged. “Of course.”

  They walked down the hall and Margot again tried to bring up any instances of subterfuge from her conversation with Bentley’s son. Why tell her about Russ? Had it just been a distraction? A fabrication of their supposed rivalry in order to throw her off the trail while they kidnapped her dear friend?

  They walked into Adam’s guest room and she surveyed the damage. It looked as if Bentley had been dragged from bed—a thought that made her heart twist and tears prick her eyes—and then some of his drawers had been raided. What had they been looking for?

  Then she saw it. There, sitting by Bentley’s bedside table, was an old, folded photo. She stepped closer, careful not to touch anything lest she disturb evidence. The photo looked like it had been folded inside a letter envelope with a crease on one edge. It was old, yellowing in the corners, but as she drew closer, she could tell that it was a photo of Bentley and a woman.

  She moved to the opposite side of the image and saw two names scrawled on the back.

  Bentley and Lucy.

  Her heart began to pound. There was no way that Ben had taken Bentley.

  “It wasn’t Ben,” she said, turning to face Adam.

  “Sweetie, I know you think that, but—”

  “No,” she said quickly, pointing at the photo. “If it had been Ben, he would have taken this.”

  Adam frowned and looked more closely at the photo. “Because it’s a photo…”

  “Of his mother and his father.”

  “That’s not evidence…” he said, though not unkindly.

  “I know,” she rushed to explain, “but when I talked with Thea, she told me how Felix, aka Ben, had talked with her about taking care of his mother. This man loved his mother so much, and I’m ninety-nine-point-nine percent certain that if he’d come in here to take his father, he would have taken his photo too. I think it was Russ Soto who took him. We find Russ and I think we’ll not only find Bentley, but also evidence of Frank and Terry’s murders.”

  “I understand the connection you’re making, but…”

  “It’s thin,” she finished for him. “I know.”

  “And you’re forgetting that if they are working together, Russ may have taken Bentley and wouldn’t have taken the photo, but Ben would still be in on it.”

  She sighed. “I know…but I just have a feeling. A strong feeling.” She smiled slightly up at him and he shook his head.

  “You know I take your feelings seriously.” He consulted his phone again. “I can’t call off the search for Ben, but I can add Russ to the list.” His phone began to buzz again and he shrugged.

  “I’m going to go.”

  He stopped her with a hand on her arm. “You’re not going to do something foolish, are you?”

  His phone rang again and he grimaced as he answered it.

  Without replying to him, she slipped out of the room and into the darkness of the night where she’d parked her car. She needed to get a hold of Ben, and she only had one way to do that.

  “You want me to do what?” Dexter ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. Margot regretted the fact that she hadn’t realized it was almost two in the morning when she’d come knocking on Dexter’s door, but it was too late to go back. Besides, they only had hours until the ransom money was to be delivered and she had to make sure Ben knew what was going on.

  “I'm so sorry it’s so late, or early.” She shifted from one foot to the other. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

  “No, it’s fine. I’d only just gone to bed,” he said with a humorless laugh. “So I need to trace an unknown number? Can I see your phone?”

  “Yes. Here.” She handed it over and watched as he made his way through his slightly messy living room to the large desk against the back wall that housed two computer screens and a mass of electronic equipment Margot couldn’t even begin to guess the uses of.

  “Have a seat, Margot. It may take a while.”

  She nodded and took a seat on the couch. Dexter’s screens flashed to life and he plugged in her phone. “It’s going to take a few minutes for my software to boot up. Want to tell me what’s going on?”

  She considered her friend for a moment, weighing the realities of telling him that Bentley was missing against keeping the information to herself, but in the end, she couldn’t do it. “Bentley’s been kidnapped.”

  Dexter’s only response was a few slow blinks, as if he couldn’t quite take in that information.

  “There was a ransom note left at the scene and everyone thinks that Ben did it, working in conjunction with Russ Soto,” she quickly explained who Russ was before continuing. “But I don't buy it. Adam thinks I was conned—a legitimate possibility—but I just don’t think so. I need to get in touch with Ben.”

  “Which is why I’m hacking your phone.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Then let’s hope this works, and quick.”

  She hoped so too and watched as he turned back to the screens, typing furiously.

  “If only we could find out where Russ was staying. That would put and end to all of this.” Margot was essentially talking to herself while Dexter worked, but she felt the need to do something. Even if it wasn’t an action yet.

  “You think that’s where he took Bentley?”

  “Yes,” she agreed. “And he may also have some type of incriminating evidence that will link him to the murders of Frank and Terry. But maybe that’s wishful thinking.”

  Dexter went back to the keyboard, typing furiously again, before he leaned in and said, “Aha!”

  Margot was at his side in an instant. “What is it?”

  “I cheated the system a bit, but I think we can get a call back to his phone, though I’m not sure I can get the actual number or much information like I’d usually be able to do.”

  “I just need to talk to him. That’s most important.”

  “Okay, so I’ll route it through my program and the call will come through. Are you ready?”

  She looked at the clock. Almost two-thirty. “Yes.”

  He nodded and tapped a few keys before handing her the phone, which was still attached by a longer-than-normal cord to the computer. She licked her lips and waited as the sound of dialing filled
her right ear.

  One ring. Two. Then—

  “Hello?”

  “Ben, it’s Margot.”

  There was the sound of ruffling—sheets?—and then, “How’d you get this number?”

  “That doesn’t matter. What does matter is that you’re being framed.”

  “We already knew that.” A deep sigh followed this comment. Gone was the man in control. All Margot heard now was a man without hope. Had something changed?

  “No. You’re being framed for kidnapping your father.”

  “My— What? No. That’s impossible. I was with you.”

  “I know, but the police think that you’re working with Russ on this.” She cringed, knowing that she was breaking rules telling him that, but so deep were her convictions that he was innocent, at least for some of the crimes he was being charged with.

  “That’s foolish. Why would I— Russ.” Ben cursed. “It’s all part of his plan to get back at me.”

  And he was doing a good job of it. “Do you know where he is?”

  “No.” Ben’s tone made it clear what he would do if he had that information.

  “We need some type of clue—” She paused as a smile found its way onto her lips. “Stay where you are. I’ve got an idea.”

  “What is—”

  “Wait for me to call you back. I’ve got a plan.” She waited, wondering if he’d agree. While she didn't know Ben personally, she knew enough to assume that he wouldn’t like leaving the details of a plan up to someone else. Then again, he had no other choice.

  “All right,” he finally agreed and hung up.

  Turning to Dexter and feeling lighter than she had in last few days, she said, “Dexter, I’ve got one more thing for you to do.”

  14

  “I sure hope you’re right about this,” Adam said, shooting her a look that said he believed in her but was still nervous about the outcome.

  “Trust me,” she said, feeling more confident by the minute. “It’s going to work.”

  He turned back to the seedy motel perched at the edge of an eroding cliff. Adjusting the sound on the equipment he’d hastily set up, he let out a breath and leaned back. “Here we go.”