The Lady is a Thief (The Lady is Mine Book 1)

by Aimee Nicole Walker

  “Elijah, I know killing someone is typically considered a personal thing, but this seems… more. She feels like she did the world a favor. I’m afraid what you’re going to find when you dig deeper into Thom’s background. I’m scared about how close I came to being a victim of something horrible. It was really bad, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes,” I said tersely. “I can’t divulge the contents of the trunk, but I will confirm that there’s a high probability that Thom Renzo had no intentions of letting you sort through the junk in the cellar.”

  “It’s not junk,” Maegan said, hands on her hips in irritation. I just confirmed her fears and she chose to get mad about my junk reference. Or was she using that as an outlet for the riotous emotions coursing through her body? She grabbed onto any emotion that alleviated the fear; that’s what I would’ve done in her place.

  “You’re right, Freckles. I’m sorry.” I wasn’t about to argue with her when I had healthier ways to help her work through her frustration and fear.

  “I agree that the killer’s statement indicates a passionate dislike of Thom Renzo and doesn’t appear to have anything to do with the Bliss property. I’m still not sure why you think you were talking to a woman. I’m fully aware that women are capable of committing murder, but statistics are still in favor of men committing violent crimes.”

  “Nothing about the crime rules out a woman,” Kasey pointed out. “Nothing about the murder required brute force or extraordinary strength. It seems like a well-planned, clean execution.”

  “Except it wasn’t well-planned because Renzo’s call to Maegan was out of the blue,” I challenged.

  “It was out of the blue for Maegan, but that doesn’t mean it was that way for Renzo,” Kasey countered. “He could’ve planned it all along.”

  “You make a very valid point,” I told Kasey. My gears started grinding again, and I knew the rest of our conversation needed to occur in the privacy of the police station. “Can you guys give me a few minutes alone with Maegan?” I asked Adrian and Kasey.

  “Sure,” they both said.

  I leaned my back against the counter, placed my hands on Maegan’s hips, and pulled her toward me. “Listen, Freckles, I’m not deliberately keeping you in the dark. Please tell me you know that.”

  “I do, Elijah. I don’t like it, but I respect it.” She smiled at me, but I noticed that it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

  I raised a hand and cupped her face. I breathed easier when she leaned into my touch, but refused to think about why it mattered so much to me. It just did. I would make time to evaluate what the hell I wanted to happen between us later when I knew that all threats to her were eliminated.

  “I need to head back to the station to make some calls, but I still plan on being here after you close. Maybe you are out of the woods, but I’m not willing to take that chance.”

  Maegan placed her hands on my chest and slid them up until they met behind my neck. “I don’t want to be a burden to you. Lulu, Rascal, and I can stay with my parents or one of my friends can stay with me. I don’t want you to feel obligated to—”

  I covered her mouth with my index finger. “I’m right where I want to be, Freckles. I think you know it too.” Okay, maybe there wasn’t much evaluating required.

  She gave me a genuine smile then. “A girl can hope.”

  I kissed her then. My lips lingered longer than a quick peck but didn’t part hers to delve deeper inside her mouth. I needed assurance that she was fine; the rest could come later when we were alone and had more time to explore.

  “What do you think, partner?” Adrian asked once we were back at the police station. Kasey and Captain Roman-Wyatt joined us in an interview room so we could have privacy.

  “Kasey and Maegan both make excellent points. Maegan is the only one who’s talked with the killer and is going off instincts.”

  “Women’s intuition isn’t something we want to discount,” Kasey said with a wry smile. “Not to mention another certain case where the captain and Adrian had a run-in with a diabolical female. A certain seventy-year-old woman who snuck up on them and got the upper hand by hitting them over the head with something heavy. Maegan could be drawing on that knowledge just as much as intuition.”

  “What case is this?” I asked, looking between Adrian and our captain.

  “Never you mind,” Adrian said haughtily. “We still got our gal in the end. Well, I did anyway. The captain was in the hospital recovering from his injuries. See, he took his bad cop act too far and incurred a bigger wrath than my good ole boy routine.”

  “Are you finished?” the captain asked his former partner with an incredulous expression on his face before he shifted his attention back to me. “I’m still waiting for a return call from Lieutenant Snyder with the Kentucky State Police informing me what time you guys should arrive. Plan on it being an early morning tomorrow, fellas. It’s at least a four-hour drive.” He rose to his feet. “I’ll be in touch with more specifics as soon as they become available.”

  “Have a good night, Captain,” I said as he headed for the door.

  “Same to all of you. Call right away if something breaks.”

  Once the captain left, we resumed talking about our case. Adrian and I told Kasey what the realtor said. She had made a good point at Books and Brew that maybe delaying Maegan’s meeting had been intentional on his part. Did he need more time to work out a sick, twisted plan for her? If so, how would his killer have known that though?

  “What if this person had been watching Renzo and waited for the opportunity. Was the killer privy to Renzo’s intentions toward Maegan? If so, why not tell the police?”

  “Because they failed him or her,” I said softly.

  “Or someone they love,” Adrian added.

  “Sometimes you can see why people snap,” Kasey said. “But we still have to pursue this case like we would anyone else, even if Renzo turns out to be as vile as we suspect.”

  “Agreed,” I told her. “If we turn a blind eye then we’re no better than the criminals we try to put behind bars.” I blew out a frustrated breath. “Let’s start with what we know. Thom wasn’t in contact with anyone local on a personal level, including his uncle who resides outside of town. According to his uncle, Thom didn’t have anything to do with him beyond making final arrangements for his parents. Besides the auction house, Becker and Maegan were the only ones who recently talked to him. In all three cases, Renzo used email instead of the phone.”

  “I sure wish we could find his cell phone. Perhaps we’ll get lucky and find his number when we search his residence tomorrow. A laptop with some clues would be greatly appreciated too.” Adrian looked up toward the heavens like he was asking for some divine intervention.

  “So, are you saying that the killer followed Renzo from Kentucky to Ohio, but didn’t bring a murder weapon?” Kasey asked.

  “Maybe our person has been watching Renzo for a long time. Saw an opportunity. Maybe they did know that Maegan was in danger. Could be they showed up to warn Maegan and snapped, using the first thing they found to take Renzo out.”

  “Okay, let’s continue with that theory for a minute and see where it leads us,” I told them. “Our killer followed Renzo for four hours to Ohio and killed him at the first opportunity. Renzo didn’t see or hear them pull in?”

  “Maybe he was too busy lying in wait for Maegan. He wouldn’t have known that she was bringing two men with her,” Kasey said. Damn it. I knew she was just stating a likely possibility, but it made me sick to my stomach all over again. “Sorry,” Kasey said when she saw my expression.

  I waved her off. “Our killer must’ve stashed their car someplace close by then while they hid Renzo’s car at that old barn.”

  “How’d they know about the place if they weren’t from around here?” Adrian asked.

  “They passed the place on their way to Renzo’s house since they traveled down that road when they exited the interstate,” Kasey pointed out.

  “T
hen they traveled back on foot to pick up their car. It’s possible,” I said. It would’ve been a very cold two-mile walk, but it was doable.

  “Or we’re not talking about one killer.”

  My head snapped up from where I’d been studying my boots while I worked the case out in my head. “What makes you think that, Kasey?”

  “It’s just a possibility. Maybe they only planned to confront Renzo and things escalated. One driver took Renzo’s car to the abandoned property and the other drove behind and picked them up.”

  “They stuck around at least twenty-four hours to drop off the evidence behind Maegan’s shop and leave the clue at her house. Then they left town,” I theorized.

  “Yeah, that works,” Adrian said. “The nearest hotel is in Goodville. Let me make a call to see if they had any out of town guests, specifically Kentucky.”

  “I think we’re onto something here,” I said. “Sure, anger and intense emotions could propel someone to ignore the cold and other extreme conditions to focus on their goal”—I knew this from firsthand experience—“but, it also makes sense that they had help.”

  Adrian returned after a few minutes, shaking his head in disgust. “Well, there was a room rented to a Patsy Walker and Carol Danvers, who the clerk said were hot chicks from Kentucky. They slipped him some extra cash to forget to obtain their driver’s license information.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Kasey said.

  “The kid admitted it. He said they were tall, blonde, and sexy as fuck. He tried to say that they glamorized him or some shit.”

  “Glamored,” Kasey said. “It’s a term associated with vampire lore,” she explained when she saw my confused expression. “They can look into your eyes and get you to do whatever they want.”

  “Huh,” Adrian said. “I doubt that flies with his manager though. She didn’t seem very happy that he possibly let two murder suspects stay in their hotel.”

  “It’s them,” Kasey said confidently.

  “How do you know?” I asked.

  “Patsy Walker and Carol Danvers are also known as Hellcat and Captain Marvel. They’re female superheroes,” Kasey told us.

  “Fuck!” Adrian said. “There’s no way that’s a coincidence. They called Maegan on their way out of town to let her know she was safe from them.”

  “So, we’re looking for two smoking hot blondes that are somehow connected to Thom Renzo in Kentucky,” I said. “It’s not much, but I guess it’s something.”

  “This case just took an interesting turn. I wish I could go with you guys,” Kasey said. Then she threw her head back and had a good laugh at the raised-brow looks we aimed at her. “I’ve always been partial to blonde chicks. And you thought Jones was the one you had to worry about around your girl.” Kasey slapped me on the arm as she walked past me. “Have a good night, fellas.”

  Adrian chuckled beside me. “I like Officer Kasey’s style. See you in the morning, partner.”

  I looked down at my watch and saw that I had hours to kill before Maegan’s shop closed, which meant I had time to plan a surprise for my girl. Yeah, it was past time, I admit it.

  I THINK EVERYONE ON THE planet is familiar with the concept that news travels fast, bad news travels faster. Knowing it and living it are two completely different animals though. I’d experienced this plenty of times growing up in a small town. My mother was made aware of any transgression Milo and I committed long before we arrived home from school or anywhere else we might’ve caused mischief. That was before email and text messages were a thing, so you can imagine how much quicker gossip spread with modern technology. I was amazed that it took my mother until one o’clock to show up at Curious Things. She either found out about the phone call late or was biding her time. Either way, she was the first person through the door when I flipped the sign over to show that I was open for business.

  “I’m surprised you’re opening the shop today,” she said, squeezing me tight enough to cut off my air supply. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine,” I wheezed.

  Mom pulled back and looked at me then, grinning sheepishly. She looked like she had aged ten years overnight and that broke my heart. “What did he say to you on the phone?”

  “Mom, I can’t discuss it with anyone.” Elijah hadn’t said as much, but it seemed obvious to me that I needed to keep quiet about the call.

  “I’m not just anyone, Maegan Miracle. I am your mother.”

  “Okay, but you have to look me in the eye and promise me that you won’t speak to anyone about this.”

  “Of course,” she replied, crossing her heart with her index finger.

  “I won’t repeat the specific words used, but the caller expressed that I had nothing to worry about. I guess they wanted me to know that his or her issue was with Thom, not me.”

  “Why did you say ‘his or her’?” Mom asked.

  “They used a voice distorter so I couldn’t tell the gender of the caller.” I didn’t share my theories with her though. I knew I could trust her to keep my confidence, but I didn’t want to betray Elijah or undermine his investigation.

  “Why involve you then? What was the point of putting evidence at your place of business and home?”

  I shrugged. There was no way I was going to tell her that the killer claimed to have saved me. “Maybe they were aware of my relationship with the lead detective?”

  “So you’re admitting there is a relationship between the two of you?” she asked.

  “There’s something going on between us, but I’m not sure what I’d label it.”

  “So don’t. Labels are for clothes.” She reached over and smoothed her hand over my wayward curls. “Just be happy, Maegan. That’s all I want for you and Milo.”

  “I was happy before Elijah moved to town, Mom.”

  “You were content, my love, and that’s not the same thing.”

  I couldn’t argue with her because she was right. Well, I could have, but it would’ve been a waste of energy that I could expend in happier ways. “I can’t believe my shop isn’t overflowing with curious customers,” I said, changing the subject.

  “They’ve already been to the coffee shop this morning,” she replied wryly. “They were practically lined up down the block when I attempted to see you earlier.”

  “You could’ve used the employee entrance in the back. You have a key,” I reminded her.

  “I could see that you were okay and that was enough to tide me over until I could give you a proper hug.”

  “Or squeeze the air out of my lungs,” I teased. “I’m good, Mom.” I looked over her shoulder and saw a tall brunette approach the door. I couldn’t contain the soft growl that rumbled out of my chest.

  My mother turned to see what had upset me. “Oh, that bitch,” she said sassily right before the door opened. My mom positioned herself by my side and together we faced what was surely to be some kind of dig or insult.

  “Oh my, Maegan,” Amanda said breathlessly, batting her eyelashes and covering her mouth with a trembling hand. I noticed that the diamond engagement ring she supposedly threw at Clayton was back on her left hand. “I just had to make sure you were okay. I just heard about your troubles.”

  “My troubles?” I looked down at my whole, healthy body and around my pristine shop that was a huge source of pride for me. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

  Amanda took a few steps closer to me, eyeing my mom warily like a person would a Rottweiler on guard. I couldn’t blame my mom’s protectiveness since this woman—and I used the word loosely—was the bane of my high school existence. She was downright evil before I had cancer because she saw me as competition. I missed most of my junior year while battling leukemia, but stayed on target to graduate with a private tutor. I was so self-conscious about my hair on my first day of school my senior year because the regrowth was little more than a buzz cut. I had hated wearing a wig. It didn’t feel like me, and it seemed like people stared at me anyway when I wore it, so why not be c
omfortable? I put on my makeup and wore my favorite new outfit, determined to have a good day no matter what. I was a warrior who beat cancer dammit. Rawr!

  My positive mood had lasted only until Amanda Jacobsen spotted me in the hallway and called me GI Jane loud enough for everyone around us to hear. Amanda’s eyes glittered in delight when her comment garnered laughter from her little circle of followers, but I noticed the merriment didn’t reach some of their eyes. They were nothing more than little bleating sheep who didn’t think or act for themselves. I was determined not to let her see that her arrow had struck its target though.

  “My mom said that you’ll never be able to have kids. That sucks that you won’t ever hold your own little miracle in your arms.” She giggled over her witty play on words. “No man wants a wife who can’t provide him children. Poor Maegan.” That’s what she started calling me, and it grated on my nerves far worse than GI Jane.

  Yes, her sexist implication that women were only good for bringing children into the world sounded like something you’d expect to hear in the fifties, but it sliced me to the bone. I had overcome many hurdles the previous year, but I still hadn’t come to terms with knowing that chemotherapy had saved my life while taking away my chance to give it. I had always wanted a large family and it would never happen. Everything else seemed very small in comparison.

  “Well, look who it is. The Wicked Bitch of Blissville High,” Milo had said when he walked up on the scene. “Take your flying twats and be gone before I borrow a bucket from the janitor and douse you with water.”

  “My, aren’t we brave this year?” Amanda had asked. “You do know that my boyfriend is a football player and can crush you, right?”

  “Yes, but I also know that my boyfriend is the captain of the football team and could snap your boyfriend like a twig. I don’t think you want to get into a pissing contest with me. Get going.” Milo had made witch cackling noises when Amanda turned and strode away in a huff.

  “There’s a crazed killer that seems intent on killing you,” Amanda said, pulling me back to the present. “I’d call that trouble.”