Con Man

by Amy Brent

  “Holy hell, I laughed at her.”

  “Yeah, and that’s pretty fucked up,” he said. “If you still want her, you’re gonna have to do something. And quick. Otherwise, you’ll never get her back.”

  “You’re right,” I said. “I know you are. But how the hell do I do that? How do I come back from last night? For fuck’s sake, I told her to get the hell out and never come back. I told her I was conning her.”

  “You’ve messed with a lot of people, and I don’t know if someone’s gonna come after you or not, but whatever you do, it’s gotta be big. A big, selfless display of not just love but sorrow. Sorrow for laughing in her face when she was at her most vulnerable. She told you, right? What she was doing? It’s not like you pulled it from her.”

  “Yeah, she spilled everything while she was crying,” I said.

  “Yeah, massive. Massive, selfless, and sorrowful. The love stuff can come later. Right now, you gotta find a way to apologize.”

  “When should I do it?” I asked.

  “Before this fucking weekend’s over, if you can.”

  “That doesn’t give me a lot of time,” I said. “There’s only, like, eight more hours in this damn weekend anyway.”

  “Then, I suggest you hurry,” he said. “But I gotta get back to the bar. Good luck.”

  The two of us walked out to the sounds of a woman yelling at the bar. Chad and I started jogging over, but the moment we barreled through the tent, I froze.

  There she was in all her plastic surgery glory.

  Destiny was yelling for me at the bar.

  “Where’s that piece of shit?”

  “I take it she’s one of yours?” Chad asked.

  “Fuck,” I whispered.

  I watched her turn around as her fiery eyes hooked onto me. She grazed her sight up and down my body, clocking all the things that were different about me before she began to stalk toward me. Her finger was pointed right at my face, and people were staring. Visions of my imminent arrest sailed through my head as she approached.

  “Whatever this thing is you’ve got going on in your life, it’s done,” she said.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You can play dumb all you fucking want, you piece of trash, but I’ve got proof. Not that the bitch’ll hand it over, but it’s there. I know it is. And when I’ve got it, I’m pressing charges that’ll keep you rotting in a cell for decades. You hear me? You’ll be gone forever for what you’ve done.”

  “I’m sorry, are you looking for someone else?” I asked.

  “What the fuck’s wrong with you?” she asked. “Of course, I’m not looking for someone else, Alex Ruth. I’m looking right at the pathetic excuse of a man I came to see.”

  “Sweetheart, I’m not sure if—”

  “If you fucking call me anything but my name one more time, you won’t need the police where I’m gonna put you.”

  “All right,” Chad said. “I believe you need to leave, ma’am.”

  “You know what you did!” Destiny yelled. “You know what you did, and you’re going to pay for it. You won’t get away with this, Alex. Not one fucking bit!”

  “I’m not sure who Alex is, ma’am,” I said.

  “Wesley, stop,” Chad said, shaking his head.

  “I’m going to kill you for what you’ve done to me and my son!” Destiny shrieked as one of the bouncers escorted her from the cabana.

  “Did you hear what she said?” Chad asked.

  “I heard a lot of things that crazy ass woman just said.”

  “That’s the woman who hired Olivia, right?” he asked.

  “Huh?”

  “Don’t play dumb. Come on, this place is gonna pick up in a bit, and I wanna see if you heard it.”

  “Heard what?” I asked.

  “‘Not that the bitch’ll hand it over.’ She was talking about the evidence against you, right?”

  My eyes widened as I thought back to what Destiny had just yelled. Chad was right. She could’ve only been talking about one person.

  And if what Destiny was saying was right, that meant Olivia, for whatever reason, wasn’t handing over the evidence she had against me.

  “Go find her, Wesley, and don’t fuck it up again. I’ve got this covered if she comes back.”

  I ran to my car and hopped in. I sped off back down the road, but I didn’t turn down the road I usually took to get to my home. Instead, I drove over to Nelson Wainwright’s offices and parked before I started looking around.

  If there was one thing I knew about Olivia, it was that she kept her friends close.

  Olivia was never one to have friends in high school, and being a private investigator would coop her up just like she liked. That meant the lawyer she used regularly would probably be within walking distance of her workplace. I looked around and walked a few blocks, looking for signs that pointed to her office.

  But even though I found her building, it was clear no one was there.

  “Shit.”

  I pulled out my phone and dialed Olivia’s number, but all I got was her voicemail. I tried her a couple more times before I finally left her a message, but I knew Olivia was a creature of habit. I assumed she wasn’t very close with her father, given what he’d done to her mother, but I did remember her talking all the time about things her and her mother did over the weekends.

  She was very close to her mother then, so I could only assume they were still close now.

  I searched for Louise Hart on the internet, but when nothing came up, I tried to think of what her mother’s maiden name was. I groaned as I racked my brain. Then, a conversation I once had with Olivia behind the school our senior year answered my question for me. She had been so distraught at the fact that her mother wouldn’t let her change her last name. Louise got to change her last name back to Barker, and Olivia wanted to as well. She was crying because she didn’t want the last name of the man who’d ruined their family.

  My chest clenched down in pain at the memory as I searched for Louise Barker.

  A couple of people popped up, but one particular address raised some red flags. I couldn’t quite remember Olivia’s exact home address when we were back in high school, but I did know the house sat on the same road as the address I was looking at did.

  So, I decided to take a chance. I got into my car, typed in the address into the GPS, and then got back onto the road.

  If a big gesture was needed, a big gesture was what she would get.

  Chapter 26

  Olivia

  I pulled up in front of my mother’s house before I cut off my car. For the first time since all this started, my head was no longer swirling. I was no longer picturing Wesley or wondering what he was doing. I was no longer feeling my nipples pucker at the idea of his lips on my body. I wasn’t even crying any longer over the loss of him.

  I felt numb, and I wanted to lean into my mother’s embrace and get away for a while.

  I climbed out of my car and dragged myself onto the porch just as my mother ripped the door open. Louise opened her arms for a broad embrace, and I stumbled into them before beginning to cry. My mother held me tightly before she shut the door, and then, the two of us maneuvered over to the couch and flopped down together.

  “Oh, my Olivia,” Louise said. “What’s going on?”

  “It’s so much, Mom. Oh, holy hell, it’s so much.”

  “With language like that, it must be. Come on, try to talk with me. What’s happened?”

  “Do you remember Wesley Wilton?” I asked.

  “How could I forget him? He was your first love in high school.”

  “I found him,” I said.

  “Found him where?” she asked.

  I started crying again and laid my head on my mother’s shoulder. My mother’s fingertips stroked through my hair, and it felt soothing. By the time I was done adjusting, my head was resting in my mother’s lap. I sniffled, trying desperately to keep my sobs at bay, but the more I allowed myself to relax, the more my em
otions poured forth.

  “I took on a case tracking down a guy who had slept with a woman using a fake name and then stole her stuff. It was Wes, Mom.”

  “Are you sure it was him?”

  “I spent two weeks tangled up in him. Of course, it was him.”

  “Oh, sweetheart,” she said. “All right. Back up. What happened?”

  “I executed this plan to get close to him. I posed as a real estate developer and investor, wanting to purchase a piece of property he was selling. I was going to ask him a few questions, lead him on with some fake documents, and then nail him for the crime when I had enough evidence.”

  “So, what happened?” Louise asked.

  “He happened. Mom, the moment I saw him, all those memories and emotions came flooding back. We were looking at the property, and I just caved to him. Over and over again.”

  “Oh, honey.”

  “And I kept up the ruse,” I said, crying. “And I kept caving. And he was just like he used to be, Mom. Charming and witty. Funny and handsome. My gosh, he looks so incredible now. I fell back in love with him, and I had to cut off the investigation. And now, my only friend won’t even talk to me, and I’ve lost Wes again.”

  “How did you lose your friend?” Louise asked.

  “She was the one Wes did this to.”

  “Has he done it to other women?”

  “Not that I can prove. I assume so, but they never filed reports or complained or anything, so there’s nothing.”

  I closed my eyes as my mother smoothed my hair back from my neck. I felt my mother’s soft breath blowing cool streams of air on my skin, and for a moment, my mind relaxed. Gone was the drama and the tears. Gone was the heartache and the sorrow, and in their place was simply a little girl who needed the comfort of her mother after being battered by the big, bad world.

  “He was beautiful, Mom,” I whispered.

  “He was beautiful to you then, too,” Louise said. “I always questioned whether you’d gotten over him. I know you think you’ve fallen back in love with him. But I’m not too sure you ever stopped.”

  “Was it like that for you and Dad?” I asked. “Did you guys ever have those feelings once? Those feeling that just knocked you off your feet and took your breath away? That magnetized you two together, despite what you kept trying to tell yourself was right?”

  “Not by a longshot,” Louise said, giggling. “Your father and I never had that kind of connection. Maybe that’s why he did what he did. I don’t know. But there are two things you need to understand.”

  “What’s that, Mom?”

  “First, I’ll always be grateful to you for figuring out what your father was doing and then bashing me over the head with it. I was so scared of what was going to happen afterward that even when it was right in front of me, I refused to believe it. You were so headstrong and so intelligent at only fifteen years old. I always admired your inner strength.”

  “You deserved better, Mom,” I said. “I was only trying to get you to realize that.”

  “And so do you, darling. When Wes left you before graduation, I held you just like this, if you remember?”

  “I do,” I said.

  “And I’m glad you felt you could come to me again, though I have a slightly different take on him now,” Louise said.

  “I bet you do,” I groaned.

  “No, no, no. Hear me out. Has the boy made some mistakes? Sure. But if any of those rumors were true about his mother, a little boy like that doesn’t come out unscathed. I had a feeling you never really got over him, and I can tell you really like Wes. Even now.”

  “He doesn’t want me, Mom. I came clean to him about everything. About my friend and what I was doing. About how I was posing as this person, even though I wasn’t acting very different. I tried to tell him the only thing different about the real me and the me he’d been experiencing was literally my job title. I…”

  “You what, sweetheart?” Louise asked.

  “I told him I loved him,” I said, whispering.

  “I take it that didn’t go over very well?” she asked.

  My face crinkled up, and I began to sob in my mother’s lap again. No matter how much my mother wanted to take away all the pain I was feeling, I knew she couldn’t. I had to sift through all this, and I couldn’t do it in the same city that was now tainted with memories of him.

  “Everything is so topsy-turvy, Mom.”

  “I know.”

  “What am I going to do?” I asked.

  “If I knew, I would tell you. Part of me is worried about you loving someone like Wes, for many reasons besides what you’ve told me, but I also can’t deny that you really do care for him. He’s touched you in a way I haven’t seen any of your other boyfriends touch you, and that says a lot for someone like you.”

  “Someone like me?” I asked.

  “Yeah. You intentionally close yourself off from people. You pulled away from your father, and at the time, I was willing to accept that. I was angry at him and resentful for what he did to our marriage, but I carry guilt with me every day because you don’t have a relationship with him. It’s why I didn’t let you change your last name back in high school.”

  “I was so angry at you for that,” I said, grinning.

  “I guess that was my way of trying to instill some of him into you without actually having to shove you off to him. I was selfish in that regard, and because of it, you and your father are estranged. I’m so sorry for that, Olivia.”

  “Don’t be,” I said. “I wouldn’t have wanted a relationship with him anyway, after what he did to us. It wasn’t your fault he never came around on the holidays. It wasn’t your fault he didn’t call me on my birthdays. It wasn’t your fault he never initiated contact after he packed up and left.”

  “But it is my fault that I didn’t do everything I could to reach out to him,” she said.

  “No one blames you for that, Mom. Least of all me.”

  “Well, my point is, if I don’t tell you to go after Wes, despite what I currently think and how I currently feel, it would be the second biggest regret of my life. You loved that boy in high school, and it’s obvious you love him now.”

  “He won’t even take my calls, Mom,” I said.

  “Then give him a couple days,” she said. “Stay here. Spend some time with your ol’ Momma. I’ll try to get your mind off things. I’ll feed you lots of food, and then in a couple of days, you can go from there.”

  “I wish I could see him now,” I said.

  “Then, go after him!” she said, laughing. “Conquer the world. Get out from that little cubicle you call an office and venture out into the world. You close yourself off in that office and bury yourself in your work so you don’t have to keep making connections with people who might disappoint you. What your father did to us left a lasting impression, one I’ve watched fester throughout your entire life. You took that seclusion and that unwillingness to open up to another person, and you dragged it into your own personal career.”

  “And you think I should with Wes?” I asked.

  “I think you already have,” she said. “What I’m trying to get at is the fact that it sounds like Wes is doing the same thing, just in a different way.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked as I sat up.

  “Think about it,” she said. “His father was nowhere to be found, and his mother drank and dated more than she raised her own son. So, he goes around tricking women and taking their things and breaking their hearts to prove a point. To prove he can take what he needs without becoming vulnerable. What did he take from your friend?”

  “He maxed out her credit cards and took the cash from her wallet.”

  “Nothing else? Not a social security card to steal her identity or any jewelry he couldn’t pawn?”

  “Mom, what are you getting at?” I asked.

  “What he did wasn’t right. The common sense in me knows that. But if he really wanted to rob these women, truly rob them, he’d tak
e everything, right? Isn’t that how that works? A robber cases a joint when he really wants to take all he can get his hands on?”

  “Yeah, usually,” I said.

  “But that’s not what he was doing. When you’re a child, you look to your parents to provide you with things. But when your parents don’t give you that stuff, if they neglect you like his parents did, then it is possible that he’s trying to do this to these women just to show himself something.”

  “You think he’s doing all this to prove he doesn’t have to be vulnerable to get what he wants?”

  “Maybe he’s taking that money like he wanted to when he was a child. Maybe it wasn’t money back then, but it could be a symbol of many things he wanted. His mother’s love, or his father’s presence. He wasn’t in control of any of that. He wasn’t in control of the basic things he needed. So, he takes these few things that are within arm’s reach, like he wished he could have when he was younger. Only this time, he doesn't have to be hurt by the woman in the process.”

  “Sometimes, I forget you were a Criminal Psychologist,” I said, snickering.

  “You didn’t get your love of figuring out people from your father, that’s for sure,” she said.