"Seems like an awful big coincidence."
"Booth Realty thought so too but I investigated the firm involved and they're just lazy, not malicious. Everyone there checked out."
"So we're back to the open house suspects. How did you decide they were the ones to watch?"
"Each of them had seen all of the properties that were broken into, amongst others. When Meadow View came onto the market, the strategy was to invite them all on the same day so we could take a look at them while we examined their backgrounds." Solomon reached for his backpack and pulled out several folders. "This is everything we have on them."
I took the first file from the top of the stack and opened it. "Brad Marsh. Lawyer. He was the one who hit on me," I reminded Solomon.
"Can’t fault him for his excellent taste."
"Taylor said he hits on everyone. I think he's a sex addict."
Solomon ran a finger down the page and tapped one line. "The two divorces could indicate that."
"Married one year and married five years," I read. "No kids. No alimony payments. Figures; he's a lawyer. Family money. He could be our party boy but it doesn't feel right."
"Lucas found footage of him in Boston for the whole weekend of one of the break-ins. He looked... busy."
"A woman?" I guessed.
"Two," confirmed Solomon.
"Different nights?"
"The whole weekend."
I pulled a face. "Not Brad Marsh," I announced, reaching for the next file. "The Newmans are expecting. It says here Mr. Newman is a workaholic and spends all his down time with his wife. Aww, that's nice."
"Or cloying, depending on your perspective."
"Don't you want to spend all of your time with me?"
"No."
"Great. More shopping time for me," I said, deciding to go for the positive rather than offence. "The Newmans were on vacation in Bermuda during four of the break-ins."
The other clients were just as easy to discount. Either they hadn't been in the area, or they had credit card statements to support their alibis during several of the time frames we looked at. The only one with an entirely suspicious profile was Anthony.
"This is all bull," I said, skimming through the last of the files. "Not a single thing is true. Even his name Tony Steed. How did Booth Realty miss that when they ran their background checks?"
"He passed only because they didn't look too closely. There was a professional website, stuffed with news stories about him and his dotcom business, plus a separate website for that. Plenty of photos detailing his success, his wealth, and his meetings with business leaders. He even had an Instagram account. It all looked legit."
"I've seen this photo before," I said, turning the pages. There was Anthony on a yacht, Anthony skiing, Anthony at a polo match. Anthony shaking the President's hand. As if! "I think he Photoshopped his head onto someone else's body. How could they miss that?"
"They wanted to believe it, so they didn’t delve as far as they should have."
"That's a little short-sighted."
"I’ll recommend they review their vetting procedure." Solomon closed the file and added it to the top of the stack. "We have to talk to his wife and you should take a walk through the houses that were broken into. I need a fresh pair of eyes on this. I think there's more to the houses than we're seeing."
"I'll check in with Taylor tomorrow after I chase down Olivia," I promised. "Meanwhile, what are you going to do?"
"Find out if there was any reason except general ineptitude that I attracted the cops’ attention in this case."
"And right now?"
"Right now?" Solomon stepped closer. Reaching for me, he placed both hands on my waist and pulled me against him. "Right now? I have other ideas."
Chapter Ten
Several hours after Solomon slipped out to meet a client, I awoke. I was wondering how to track down Olivia Steadman. Despite not knowing where she resided, or even if she were still in the area, catching up to her was easier than I thought. She was waiting for me at the agency, which I discovered just as I found her business card buried in my bag.
"Did you find the rat bastard yet?" was her first question when she saw me approach. She wore sunglasses again, despite the cloudy sky, and made no attempt to remove them.
"No," I answered as honestly and succinctly as I could. I didn't need to ask who the rat bastard was.
"Not even his body?" she asked hopefully.
"No body, sorry."
"Not even pieces of it?" she continued.
"Not a single hair," I told her as her face fell.
She pursed her lips, anger filling her words, "I knew it! He's definitely alive and on the run now with my money."
"If he were on the run, we'd know about it," I replied, "and so would the police. Believe me, no one could have survived that much blood loss."
"I think he has enough cash to stay under the radar," Olivia pointed out. "He could have bribed a whole bunch of people to get out of town. He's probably in Brazil by now with his latest girlfriend and a few pints of black market blood."
"If he's alive, my money is on Mexico," I said, remembering how much he loved going there. I was almost enjoying my new perspective since my failed relationship with him. I figured Mexico was now less about the cocktails and beaches and more about the money and ease of transition from leaving this county and migrating to our neighbor. I was sure he could feasibly get lost with minimal effort in Mexico.
"He does have a thing for dark-haired girls," mused Olivia, flicking her own dark brown hair.
"He does," I agreed. I was remembering how I became a blonde for several years after the Anthony Steadman debacle. I only returned to my natural brunette when I needed a disguise. I ended up liking it better and decided to keep it. "Do you have any idea why he would break into several properties here?" I asked.
If she frowned, or was surprised, I couldn't tell; not behind the oversized sunglasses. "None."
"No idea at all?
"What Anthony does remains a mystery to me. Please keep me updated," said Olivia, the anger dropping from her voice. "I have to talk to his family later today and they're very worried. I keep telling them they shouldn't be, but they are. I have to ask them: how can anyone be so supportive of a man like Anthony?"
"He's always been their golden boy; meaning, he can do no wrong," I told her although I was pretty sure she already knew that. "Unless they witness his bad behavior for themselves, they always insist he had a plausible excuse."
"Maybe I should introduce them to his girlfriend," Olivia said before shaking her head, and apparently deciding that was the wrong way to solve her problem. "But they'd just blame me. They’d say I drove him into an affair before they all started ripping apart our marriage. Naturally, he would come out looking golden, while I played the role of the green card deceiver."
"Are you?" I asked.
"Sure." Olivia shrugged like that was inconsequential. "But our marriage was a business arrangement we both benefited from long after our relationship stopped being fun. At least, until he got murdered and stole my money the minute I got my status confirmed. You have my number?"
I assured her I did and we said goodbye. I watched Olivia crossing the sidewalk to a waiting town car where a chauffeur held the door open. She slid in, her legs modestly staying together as though she spent a lot of time practicing such ladylike behavior. The car pulled into traffic and I turned away. Upon entering the building, I was ready and eager to study the case I was supposed to be following. The file I created on the real estate company's big problem was waiting for me.
We might have read the firm's brief to get a clue about who was breaking in, although we had one very likely suspect. But without knowing the why or how, it was something we had to consider. What kind of investigation and security agency were we if we couldn't try to protect our client from suffering this kind of activity again? Much as I didn't relish going back undercover, I knew it was a possibility in this case. I had to c
onfirm that Anthony was our culprit and not just an opportunist in the wrong place at the right time.
As I entered the office, I stopped dead in the doorway. Anthony's girlfriend was seated in the boardroom. "She refused to budge until she spoke to you," said Fletcher, instantly arriving at my side. A former cop, Fletcher didn't have a lot of time for small talk. Initially, we weren’t too friendly, but these days, I counted him as a true friend and ally. I wished he could’ve blocked me from her view, but Chloe had already spotted me. "I suggest you tell her something to get her out of the office."
"Is she annoying you?" I asked.
"It's more like... will she start annoying us on a regular basis?" countered Fletcher. "If she annoys you, she might have to leave via the window."
I blinked. "Harsh."
"Want company?" he asked as we both looked toward the boardroom.
"No, I've got this." I sighed. I dropped my bag at my desk before walking across to the boardroom. "Hi, Chloe," I said, waiting for her inevitable outburst.
"I need answers!" Chloe started without preamble. "Where's Anthony?"
"We still don't know at this time," I told her.
"That's exactly what Detective Turner told me."
"Then we're on the same page. There's nothing more I can tell you."
"They said that too. I'm his girlfriend! Someone should tell me something!"
"I think his wife precedes you on the need-to-know list."
"His wife? As if she cares? I love Anthony! I'm devastated! She probably just wants to bury him."
"That's fairly usual for the family of the deceased."
"Ohmygosh! He's deceased!" she wailed before covering her face with her hands as big sniffling sobs wracked her whole body.
"I'm very sorry," I told her gently. I didn't know much about Anthony's marriage; only what Olivia referred to as a business arrangement. Perhaps he genuinely wanted to be with Chloe? That didn't stop the niggling doubts in my mind that Chloe had probably been easily duped as well as easily dumped. "I can't tell you anything. I suggest you speak to the detectives at the Montgomery Police Department if you want any further information."
"I will and I'll make sure to tell them how unhelpful you've been!" She stood, her bottom lip wobbling as she held back more tears. "I thought you would understand!"
"I understand how hard it is to be deceived."
"I haven't been deceived. Anthony loves me! And I love him!"
"I'm sure you do," I readily agreed. "My colleague will show you out."
She stopped sniffling long enough to give me a hopeful look as she asked, "But you'll call me if you hear anything to report?"
"I'll call you if I need to," I told her. I didn't want to entirely alienate the woman. She might end up being useful to the investigation in ways I hadn't thought of yet.
"Thank you. I'll show myself out," she said as she flounced out of the boardroom, past Fletcher who hovered near the doorway. We both watched her sashaying in the tiniest miniskirt out of the office. We were still staring when the door banged open again and a curvy brunette entered.
"I'm looking for Lexi Graves," she announced, fixing a look on me. "Are you she?"
"I am," I said.
"Great. I'm Brynn Madden. I'm here about my boyfriend, Anthony Steadman."
Fletcher and I exchanged looks. "Pardon?" I said.
"My boyfriend. Anthony Steadman. He's gone missing. I heard you're handling his case."
"You're his girlfriend?" I asked, feeling stupid for asking. How many girlfriends did Anthony have? For that matter, how many wives and enemies?
Brynn nodded. "That's right."
"His girlfriend was just here," I said. "And I spoke to his wife already."
"Them? He's getting divorced! And Chloe is totally delusional. She's nothing more to him than a secretary that he feels sorry for."
I ignored that in favor of another question. "How come you're here now?" I asked.
"Anthony told me he was going to Montgomery so when I heard he was missing, I went to Montgomery, Alabama. Who knew there was a Montgomery in Massachusetts too! Is this town even real?"
"Very real," I told her while shooting another perplexed look toward Fletcher. He gave me one of his own. "There's nothing I can tell you. I'm not involved in his case."
"But you are looking into his disappearance? I might have important information."
"Who told you I was looking into it?"
"His secretary, between tears."
"Then you probably know Anthony's name came up in relation to another case I was looking into. I'm not officially investigating his disappearance or murder." Even as I said it, I knew it wasn't true. I was stuck looking into his case and even worse, I seemed to be the first person called by everyone previously involved with him.
"Murder?" Brynn faltered, her hand grabbing the back of a chair as her knees buckled. Fletcher hastily caught her before she fell. "Anthony's dead?" And with that, her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she slumped like a bag of Jell-O into his arms.
~
"Unbelievable," said Lily when I phoned to check on her and fill her in on the crazy details. "How many significant others does that make now?"
"Three and I'm going to go with insignificant others, given how many there are."
"Those poor women."
"Are they? Or are they all delusional?" I wondered out loud.
"I don't know. There's definitely something wrong with dating a married man who already has a girlfriend."
"She seemed genuinely shocked. We had to call an ambulance when she didn't come around."
"Are you going to see her again?"
"I guess so. Like she said, she might have some pertinent information."
"Crazy town. I can't wait to hear what she says. Can I come too?"
"No."
"Spoilsport. Speaking of crazy women, I'm going crazy wondering what Jord is doing. Do you have any leads?"
"None, but I think you're right about being crazy."
"I know he's meeting her for lunch. How's that for crazy?"
"How do you know?"
"I overheard him setting up a meeting while he thought I was in the shower. They will be at another café. Can you observe them?"
"I'm so sorry, I have to work."
"I can't do it! He'll spot me and I have to know the truth. Please, Lexi."
"I'll work something out," I promised. Naturally, I also wanted to know what Jord was doing, especially after what I witnessed by the florist. "Are you sure they're not just friends?"
"What kind of friendship would they have to hide from me? No one up to anything good needs to hide messages and meetings from his wife. He should just say 'Oh, hey, I'm meeting Diane for lunch today'."
"Good point."
"Let's meet for dinner later. Jord is working a late shift, or so he says, and I haven't been to O'Grady's in forever. Let's go get a couple burgers before this baby arrives and ruins all my hot dining options."
"I'll meet you there."
"You can have an alcoholic drink and I'll live vicariously through you. Bye!"
Gazing at the open file on the Booth Realty case in front of me along with the list of questions I wrote, my mind kept wandering to my personal issues. I knew there was no way I could tail Jord successfully since I relied on anonymity. My mark couldn’t notice my presence. If it were a genuine case, I could have asked any of my colleagues to fill in for me on some light surveillance; but it wasn't, which limited my options. There was only a small number of people I could ask. I immediately eliminated two of them. I could not ask my parents to tail their own son. That left only one person.
"Please tell me this is what I think it is," said Ruby when she answered her phone. I met Ruby on my first case and she helped me several times since I became a PI. Most lately, she worked for Lily at the bar but I knew she relished the chance to help out. I just hoped she would be discreet when I told her my request.
"If it's surveillance, yes,"
I replied.
"Yes!" she yelled. "I can't wait. Who? What? Where? What did they do?"
"You're sworn to secrecy. You can't mention this to Lily at all."
"I can hear you," said Lily. "We're at the bar. And yes, you can ask Ruby to tail my husband. She knows everything."
"I can't wait," said Ruby. "I told Lily seventeen million times that Jord would not cheat on her and I even bet twenty bucks on it."
"I didn't make that bet," said Lily.
"So, when and where?" asked Ruby.
"Lily can give you the details; but swing by my office to get my camera," I told her. "And thank you."
"I think she has pregnancy brain. It's a real affliction. She's paranoid," said Ruby. "I had it once and I wasn't even pregnant."
"I'm still next to you!" said Lily.
"She's also very irrational right now. Let's call this Operation: Save Jord."
"Too much of a mouthful," I decided.
"Lily said the same thing about Jord only..."
I hung up before Ruby completed her sentence and turned my attention back to the file. I was forcing myself to concentrate. I knew I was missing something but I couldn't think of what it might be. As I sat there, drumming my fingers on the desk, I thought about all the reasons I suspected Anthony of breaking into the empty houses. Then, a light bulb flashed. It was one thing to steal the master list, and quite another to know when he could break in. Could Anthony have had an inside man? What if someone else leaked the information to him on which houses to target? What if that person got a cut of the proceeds? And if the mystery person were exclusively motivated by money, could they have heard about the missing two million dollars and betrayed Anthony?
The more I thought about it, the more it seemed like those answers wouldn’t just solve one puzzle, but a much bigger enigma. Perhaps learning those answers could identify Anthony's killer, or, at the very least, locate his body. "I wonder if that body is still alive," I said, talking out loud again as I rocked back in my chair. There was only one person I knew well enough to consult at the realtors: Taylor. A couple of phone calls later, I discovered Taylor had taken a few days off to recover from her shock. Solomon said she would help me; did it matter where?
A Few Good Women (Lexi Graves Mysteries, 9) Page 11
