by Mary Frame
“I can find the way, you have enough to do.”
He attempts to protest, but I kiss him again, and again until he stops and forgets what he’s doing—until I nearly forget what I’m doing.
Once we’re both a bit breathless, I’m free to exit the building on my own, although I have to stop for a minute outside Jared’s door to collect myself.
I know exactly where to go. Instead of heading out the front door, I slip down the hall that leads to the archives and make my way down the deserted stairs. I’ve been down there before, when Jared and I were searching for information about the Knights and Ladies of the Red Baron, the old Castle Cove secret society that was the impetus behind the Castle Cove Bandit.
I find the locked cage readily enough, right next to some lockers labeled Evidence Storage.
It doesn’t take much to jimmy the simple lock and locate the trackers, stuffed in between a new camera with night-vision lenses and a recording device that looks like a simple pair of glasses. There’s also the magnet, wrapped in foam.
I bite my lip, considering it for a moment, and then I shove the magnet into my purse with the trackers.
You never know.
I haul ass back up the stairs on the balls of my feet, stopping first outside the door and listening to make sure no one is walking by. Then I’m out the door, shutting it softly behind me and walking down the hall like I didn’t just steal sensitive police equipment.
Now that that’s done, I need an innocuous vehicle. I stop by the hardware store on my way back to Ruby’s.
“Can I borrow your car?”
Tabby isn’t busy. There are no customers in the store. She’s sitting at the front counter with her feet up, thumbing through a magazine. Maybe I should have prefaced the question with light conversation and chitchat, but there’s really no time for any dancing around the topic.
“Sure,” Tabby says without even blinking. “You want the keys now?”
“If that’s okay.”
She twists around, pulls the keys from a rack behind the counter, and tosses them to me, then goes back to her magazine.
“You’re not going to ask why I need it?” I had a whole story planned about taking Paige on an overnight trip to Portland for bra shopping.
She shrugs. “I figure you’ll let me know later if I need to help you bury a body.”
“You’re a good friend, Tabby.” The words shoot an arrow straight through my chest. I don’t deserve her trust.
“Don’t you forget it.” She points at me and turns back to her magazine.
I leave Tabby’s car a couple of streets away from Ruby’s and walk the rest of the way.
Now, I just have to wait.
Jared is working over the next few nights. Part of me misses him and wishes I could spend more time with him, but it works out because I’m free to spy.
Once the sun sets and Paige is asleep and safely locked in the house, I head out the door to Tabby’s car. Her inconspicuous, midsized, older-but-not-too-old sedan is perfect for espionage. It’s basically the same car almost everyone in town has. Totally an old lady car.
When I drive by the parents’ house, a few lights are on and the Mercedes is parked in the driveway.
The house itself isn’t as ostentatious as they would normally choose, but Castle Cove isn’t exactly a mecca for the rich and wanna-be famous. It’s still nice, though, sheened in upper-middle-class elegance. It has two stories, a wraparound porch, bay windows out front, and dormer windows up top. It’s an elegant piece of real estate and I can’t help but wonder how much they’re paying for it. How much the citizens of Castle Cove are going to be paying for it.
After my drive-by, I park down the street and wait.
Once I plant the tracker on them, the plan is to show up at their house tomorrow. Surprise them, so to speak, so that by tomorrow night they’ll have something they need to talk about.
I sit there in the dark, watching, until the lights go off around midnight.
Then I creep out of the car and plant the tracker under the rear bumper, pushing it back as far as I can before activating the sensor. I run back to Tabby’s car and click the button on my end of the tracker’s receiver, synching the items up so I’ll be notified once they’re on the move.
The light on the little handheld device clicks on, a glowing green dot where they’re parked.
“Gotcha,” I whisper.
Lights in the rearview mirror blind me momentarily. I sink down in the seat as an innocuous sedan cruises by. It looks rather like the car I’m in, actually.
Weird.
The taillights disappear around the corner.
A loud rapping on the passenger side startles a shriek from my throat.
A light shines into the window, pointing just beside my face to avoid blinding me.
“What are you doing?”
Oh, shit.
It’s Jared.
Chapter Eleven
“Are you okay?” Jared asks when I don’t answer his question.
“I’m good. I was just, uh, I came over here to have dinner with Dave and Leah.” I cup my hand over the tracker. It’s not very large, but it’s also not completely covered by my hand. Dear god, don’t let him shine his light in my lap.
“It’s after midnight.”
“Oh my gosh, is it? I had a glass of wine with dinner and I was just out here . . . thinking and I must have fallen asleep.” I rub my eyes with one hand, the one not covering the tracker, to avoid meeting his gaze.
“Is your car not running again? Didn’t you guys just get a new one? Do you want me to take a look at it tomorrow?”
I swallow. I’m in Tabby’s car. Of course, he would offer to fix my car instead of wondering what the hell I’m doing and why. Why does he trust me so much?
“Yeah, well, it’s already in the shop so Tabby let me borrow her car.”
He leans down, inches from my face, his eyes serious, and I’m pretty sure he’s going to call me out on my crappy lies. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“You are?” Because you’re going to arrest me now?
“I’ve always wanted to make out in the back of the cruiser.”
A bark of laughter escapes me, releasing some of my nerves. “I’ll meet you there in two minutes.”
As soon as he walks away, I let out a sigh of relief and hide the tracker under the seat.
Thirty minutes later, we’ve steamed up the windows in the police cruiser and he’s handing me back my shirt. “Is this new?”
“No.” It’s just a plain, black T-shirt. I haven’t worn it until now because it’s too hot in June to be wearing black during the day.
He then hands me my pants, which are also black.
“Are you sure you weren’t out here going to a funeral?” he teases, his voice light.
I laugh. “I guess I got dressed tonight without really looking at what I was putting on.”
“Did you have a nice dinner with David and Leah?”
I don’t answer for a moment, pulling my shirt over my head. “Yeah, it was good.”
“Paige didn’t want to come?” He’s buttoning up his uniform. He didn’t have to take off as much as I did.
“No, she, uh, wanted to chill at home.”
“That doesn’t really seem like her.”
“Oh, well, you know. Teenagers.” I roll my eyes. “She’s getting to that age.”
“I guess. I better get back to work.” He’s finished getting his uniform buttoned up and he leans over to kiss me on the lips.
It’s not until I’m back in Tabby’s car and driving home that I wonder what he was doing in their neighborhood. It’s not normally where he patrols, since it’s a residential area. Unless he was out on a call . . . I shake my head to clear away the thought. I’m seeing conspiracies everywhere.
~*~
The next morning, I wake up bright and early and head back to the parents’ house.
Time to go Chuck Norris on their asses.
It’s still early in the morning when I knock on their door. Now I’m the one coming after them. Part of my plan involves the element of surprise. I’ve never stood up to them before, ever. I’ve never been one to talk back to them or even suggest anything. They’ve always had me in my place. Well, no longer.
I alternate knocking and ringing the bell for about five minutes until the door finally opens.
“Good morning,” I say brightly.
Mother is in a robe and slippers, her hair tied up in a messy knot and a sleeping mask pushed up on her forehead.
They never were morning people.
“What are you doing here?”
“Today’s my deadline. Remember?” I walk past her into the house.
“And you’re so anxious to turn over lover boy’s money that you had to show up first thing?” Father asks from the staircase. He’s also in a robe, just from bed, his hair a scruffy mess.
It’s odd to see them this way, not all put together and perfect—sort of vulnerable. It almost makes them look human.
The inside of the house is as nice as it looks on the outside. Furnished, but entirely too homey for them. Overstuffed couches in the living room. Flowers on the dining table. The walls are painted a cheery, pale yellow.
“Actually no. I’m here to offer you a deal.”
Father’s face flushes. “We don’t want a deal. We told you what we want.”
“If you leave town today, I’ll give you ten thousand dollars, plus another two thousand a month for the next five years.” It’s all bluster. I know they won’t take it, but I need to figure out what they will take and stall them with it.
Mother laughs. “Do we look like a bank? Your offer is ridiculous and you know it. We want a payout now. We’re not going to wait any longer.”
And there it is, confirmation that they can’t wait any longer. Hence the rushing and the pushing. What do they really want? Jared’s money? Is that my only leverage?
Time to test my theory.
“I get it. But no matter what you want, there’s not enough time to run a real con here. Ruby will be back and we’ll have to be gone before then. We need to start over somewhere else. Paige and I will go with you and pay you back and do what you want to get your money.”
As if. Come on, come on, call my bluff.
“No, no, no.” Mother shakes her head. “No new deals. We know what we want, and you’re going to give it to us one way or another.”
“Fine. But I still need more time.”
“You’re stalling us on purpose. I bet you have those numbers already.”
Of course I am. But it’s what they’d expect from me at this point—I’ve done a lousy job of hiding my feelings for Jared. I stay silent for a moment, letting the conversation cool. “I don’t know how you expect me to hand over something I don’t have.”
“I don’t know how you expect us to not take Paige and turn you in. We’ve been lenient up till now. But you’re forcing us to act.”
Annnd time to dangle the bait. “Fine. I have one account number.”
The small one not connected to the others. They’ll need more, but this little taste will give them incentive to wait while I follow them around, unravel their true scheme, and prepare an escape hatch for Paige.
“Come on.” Mother stands and motions me to follow her up the stairs. “We’ll check it out now before you leave to make sure it’s not a trick.”
“I know better than to trick you.”
“I would hope so, by now.”
Father stays downstairs while I follow Mother up. She leads me down a hall and into an office.
“Here.” She points at the computer—a top-of-the-line model—resting on the large oak desk. “Show me the account details.”
“I’m not going to transfer any funds from here.”
“I know. I just want to see it. We have a guy for the transfers.”
A guy who can probably make the transfer untraceable, at least for as long as it takes for them to get what they need and disappear.
It takes a few minutes to pull up the account and while I’m tapping away, I glance around surreptitiously. Is there anything to give away their plans? Of course not. They wouldn’t leave anything lying around.
Father calls out something from downstairs and Mother sighs.
“Don’t touch anything.” As she’s leaving, she stops and bends over by the door, grabbing the document safe, the same one they’ve been carting around my whole life, and leaves with it.
Why did she do that?
She had to realize removing the safe from the room does nothing but bring it to my attention.
Is it a ruse? They want me to think something important is in the safe?
Or maybe something important is actually in there.
I glance around the office again, looking for any clues. But there’s nothing out of place. Except for one of Father’s mint toothpicks on the corner of the desk.
Which might come in handy for what I have planned.
I grab a tissue from a box on the table and pick up the toothpick, shoving it into my bra.
Then I get back to the computer, pulling up the information as quickly as I can, before Mother returns.
I’ve almost reached the right screen when she appears in the doorway.
“Do you have it yet?” She’s still in her robe, but the sleeping mask is gone and her hair is pulled back into a neater bun.
“Um, yeah.” I tap a few more keys and pull up the screen right as she comes around the desk.
There’s a silence so loud it nearly hums as she reads over the information.
“There’s only fifteen thousand in this account.”
I clear my throat. “I guess so.”
“This isn’t nearly enough. We can’t do anything with chump change.”
“Well it’s all I have. I can get the other account numbers. I just need more time.”
“Your father isn’t going to like this.” Her lips press together.
I shrug, turning back to the computer to close out the screens. “I can’t do anything about that.”
She’s quiet for so long I finally turn around and look up at her.
Her eyes meet mine, and something in them softens. “Charlotte, I—”
“Leah!” Father yells from downstairs again. Her fake name, not her real one.
It’s just as well. Whatever she was going to say was probably a load of crap anyway. Something to butter me up, manipulate me somehow. It’s what they do.
I try not to let it bother me. It’s not me, it’s them. I know that.
But it still hurts.
She’s my mother.
I stand up. “I better go. I’ll have to get more information from Jared to keep you guys happy.” The sarcasm leeches into my tone.
She sighs and shuts her eyes, shaking her head. “I’ll talk to your Father. I might be able to get you a few more days. You need to hurry. If we run out of time, you’ll lose everything.”
I nod, watching her closely. More manipulation? Probably. She’s the good cop now.
I leave their house minutes later, feeling a little wobbly but more energized than I have since they showed up. Now to find out what they’re really planning.
~*~
The same night, I park a few blocks away on a cul-de-sac that gets even less traffic than the parents’ street. Maybe this way I can avoid getting caught again by Jared.
It’s only a matter of time. At about ten o’clock, the Mercedes pulls out of the garage like a sleek and silent shark.
They aren’t easy to tail, so having the tracker is invaluable. I follow the little dot on the screen, staying far enough behind them that they won’t even see the lights from Tabby’s car. They follow a familiar road and I know their destination before we’re even halfway there. They’re heading to Castle Cove Park. When the dot stops, I park the car and get out, pulling on a black beanie to cover my hair.
They’ve picked a great place to hide their conversation; i
t’s too windy to hear much without getting close enough to be spotted. But I have to try.
They’ve left the car in the parking lot next to the little playground. Thankfully, there are trees and bushes I can hide behind and peer around while I stalk their location. They’re at the top of the hill, their backs facing me as they stand side by side.
The wind is blowing in from over the sea and I slink behind them, sticking to the shadows around the trees surrounding the open grassy area. I’m glad I wore all black again; it helps me blend into the shadows.
This might actually work in my favor since the wind throws their words in my direction. Even so, I can only hear bits and pieces.
“She’s not going to . . . account . . . information,” Father says.
“She will if we . . . Paige.”
“I don’t know. She’s changed. She loves him.”
My mouth drops open and I want to protest. I do not love him. I like him. A lot. I greatly admire him. I . . . esteem him. I don’t know, maybe I love him. Dammit.
Mother laughs, the sound full of derision. “She’s an idiot.”
She’s not wrong.
Long seconds pass while they keep talking but I can’t hear any of it.
Then— “It won’t . . . account number or not. We’ll get it ourselves eventually. Especially after we turn her in. You can be the one to help the grieving deputy through this trying time.”
“What if she does . . . ? We need money . . .”
Father shrugs. “We’ll turn her in anyway . . . and Paige. Can’t . . . without her. No one can find out about . . .”
My blood runs colder than the wind over the sea. What do they need Paige for? What can no one find out about?
“Wait and see . . . either way, we’ll get what we want. No one will suspect—”
Their voices jump in volume as they turn and head in my direction. I duck back into the shadows and slide myself around the boulder, keeping out of their line of sight as they move back toward the car.
They drive away while I stay huddled behind the boulder.
They’re going to turn me in anyway? Even if I give them what they want?
