Lethal Bond: Jamie Bond Mysteries Book #3

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Lethal Bond: Jamie Bond Mysteries Book #3 Page 11

by Gemma Halliday


  As I was about to leave, I remembered the bug Danny had dropped into my purse. I fished it out from the bottom of my bag, beneath a bottle of hand sanitizer, a compact, and a half-eaten roll of Rolos. Oooh, I'd forgotten those were in there.

  I glanced around the room, wondering about the best spot, but there were no plants or vases to slip it into. Instead, I had to make do with placing it on a shelf, behind a framed photo of Aiden, the DA, and the Mayor during some award ceremony. They looked chummy.

  Satisfied Aiden wouldn't notice it, I walked out, slipped down the hall like a ninja, and made it outside without being seen. I was great at this spy business.

  When I stepped into my apartment, I kicked off my heels and noticed a message on my phone. I played it.

  "Jamie, it's Elaine."

  Shoot.

  "Can you please call me back? I'm wondering if you've heard from Derek. Thanks."

  The message stopped.

  I tossed the phone on my nightstand and dressed for bed. Calling her would have to wait. I was too tired to deal with the conversation. I'd had all the lies I could handle for one evening.

  * * *

  Maya placed a bottle of acetaminophen and a small paper cup of water on my desk. "Long night, boss?"

  "Something like that." I shook three pills from the bottle and drowned them with a gulp of water.

  "Caleigh called. She's coming in a bit late today."

  I nodded. "Fine." I could only imagine what Daddy Presley was dragging her to today.

  "And the new client, Mrs. Vaughn, is here."

  I nodded again and straightened the papers in front of me, closing the Livingston folder and placing it in a drawer for later. "Okay. Show her in, please."

  Maya walked out with the bottle and cup. "Ms. Bond will see you now."

  I stood as an older woman walked in. She had to be nearing eighty. Please don't tell me her geriatric husband was cheating on her. I wasn't sure if I could handle spying on a man with a walker or pacemaker shagging another women…or anyone.

  I leaned over the desk and held out my hand. "Mrs. Vaughn, I am Jamie Bond. Nice to meet you. Please have a seat."

  After shaking, she sat down and fidgeted with the hem of her skirt of her Donna Karan suit, making sure it covered her knees. "Thank you for seeing me. You come highly recommended."

  I smiled on the inside. That was always great to hear. "How may I help you?"

  "It's about my grandson, Michael. He just became engaged to a young woman." She touched the pearls at her throat and glanced behind her to the open door.

  Perhaps I should've closed it?

  She lowered her voice. "May I be frank with you, dear?"

  I lowered mine too. "Of course."

  "My sweet, trusting grandson is engaged to a two-timing, gold-digging, hussy."

  Oh my. I bit my lip.

  She narrowed her eyes. "She says she loves him and wants to start a family with him, but I'm not fooled. She's only after his money. One day he will inherit, well, what some people would consider quite a lot."

  I uncapped a pen and took notes.

  "He is blind in love," she continued. "He will not see what is so obvious. Everyone can see the truth but him. Even our help! Just the other day, I overheard one of the gardeners telling another, 'He can't see she's with him for his money?' I'm afraid Michael is just too trusting. Always has been."

  "Tell me about her. Let's start with her name."

  "Ruby St. Martin. She's twenty-four and spends her day working part-time at a clothing store in the mall. Here's her vital information. Birth date, social security number, address." She pulled a folded sheet of rose-scented stationary from her purse and placed it on my desk.

  I decided not to ask how she obtained the woman's social. I figured Grandma was a crafty, old woman. I rewrote the information onto my pad then filed the stationary beneath it. I'd add it to the folder later.

  "And tell me about Michael. You said he's trusting?"

  "Oh, Lord, yes. He's always been gullible, even as a child. His late father, my son, would tell me how the neighborhood boys would pull pranks on Michael. They'd tell him how a particular girl liked him, and Michael would approach the girl. Of course she hadn't a clue what he was talking about, and she'd tell him to leave her alone, crushing his tender heart."

  "And he never wised up?" I asked wondering how many times someone can mess with a person before that person caught on. Like me with Aiden.

  She shook her head. "That is my point. It's so dreadful the way he never learned, never became a bit more…"

  "Jaded?"

  She pursed her lips. "Exactly. One needs a modicum of cynicism to survive in this world, no?"

  "Yes." I jotted down the words: trusting, gullible, and innocent.

  "The wedding is scheduled for next month," Mrs. Vaughn said. "I need proof that she's using him before then. I need to prove to Michael that she's a tramp. If I can't, then I'm cutting him off financially."

  I looked up from my scribbling.

  "I know. I do not want to do it. I love my grandson, but I will not have that woman squander what my late husband worked so hard to build." Her voice came out through gritted teeth.

  This woman had spunk and determination, and I admired that, but couldn't she be wrong? What if Michael and Ruby were simply a happy couple? They did still exist in the world. At least before the actual wedding.

  "Why do you think she's a gold-digger? Can't Ruby just be in love with Michael?" I asked.

  She raised her eyebrows and looked as if I'd asked if money grew on trees. "She is young, hot, and hangs around musicians at nightclubs every night of the week. Every single one. My grandson is a portly accountant."

  "Oh, I see."

  Grandma may be right.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Caleigh finally crawled in just before lunch. I was at Maya's desk, going through the mail.

  "I'm so sorry I'm later than planned," she said, breathless. "After I called in, I kinda fell back to sleep."

  "Late night?" I asked. Falling asleep on the job was very unlike Caleigh. Lately, with her dad here though, she was taking more personal time. I didn't mind, as long as it didn't become a habit.

  A smile took over her face. "Incredibly. Curtis and I went to this awesome club on Sunset where a friend of his was playing. We had a fantastic time."

  "You really like him," Maya said, grinning as she watched Caleigh's face.

  "I think he may be the one." She sighed, and I could almost see little cartoon hearts fluttering around her.

  "Speaking of the 'one,'" I cut in, "where are we with Stuart Livingston?"

  She blew a raspberry. "Nowhere. He's as faithful as they come."

  Great. Now I'd have to break the news to his wife. I sighed. "Maya, can you please set up an appointment with Mrs. Livingston?"

  "Right away, boss."

  I hated upsetting the wives.

  * * *

  My lunch became tuna on whole wheat with a side salad and a bottle of water in my car, in front of the DA's office. What could I say? I was a sucker for punishment. But instead of only relying on my binoculars, I turned on the walkie-talkie thing I'd snatched from Danny and tuned in.

  Aiden's voice immediately filled my car. "I'm waiting to hear from the defense attorney about the plea bargain."

  "The Nelson case goes to trial next week. Do you think they'll even consider a plea?" asked another male. He wore a wrinkled, navy suit and needed a comb. His brown hair stuck up in one section at the back of his head. It looked like he took a nap on his desk and forgot to check himself.

  Aiden, looking ever so sexy in a gray suit, leaned on the edge of his desk, facing his co-worker. "I think so. The threat of twenty years in jail can make anyone strike a deal."

  Wrinkled Man didn't look convinced though.

  Aiden's door opened, and Miranda swayed in. "Hi, boys."

  Oh, God. Did she think she was Marilyn Monroe?

  Both men stopped their conversat
ion and turned to her. Aiden was more subtle with the way he stared at her, but Wrinkled Man may as well have had his tongue hanging out of his mouth, panting and drooling like a dog.

  "So what are we discussing?" She practically purred her words.

  Wrinkled Man loosened the knot at his tie. "Um, the Nelson case."

  She kept her gaze on Aiden, even while the other guy spoke. "Oh, they'll take the plea bargain."

  Aiden grinned. "That is what I said."

  She stepped an inch closer to him. "Great minds think alike."

  "Well, I should be going," said Wrinkled Man.

  Aiden said good-bye and thanked him for his help while Miranda just waved him off. She picked a piece of lint off Aiden's suit lapel. Although if I knew Aiden, there really wasn't any on his jacket to begin with, just an excuse to put her hands on him. How obvious.

  But he didn't step away. In fact, he looked to her hand, then to her face, and smiled.

  I coughed, gagging a bit on some bread crust. Oh, come on.

  "What do you say we get out of here?" she asked, filling up the space between them.

  I chuckled. There was no way he'd be seduced by Ms. Obvious.

  "What do you have in mind?" His voice was lower than usual.

  What? How could he fall for that?

  "Well, we could go back to my place." She walked her fingers up his chest, from his navel to his chin.

  "How about we start with lunch and take it from there?"

  "Purr-fect." She literally purred the first half of her answer. I'd swear she was a cat in her last life. A real bitch. Oh wait, that was a dog, huh?

  They walked out of Aiden's office, out of view and out of earshot. Darn. Couldn't they have ordered in? What a waste of a lunch hour. I had to eat in my car, while watching those two practically make out on his desk, and now I got to watch them leave to do God only knew what.

  Yes, I knew I was freaking out over a man whom I clearly never knew. I couldn't help it. Not only did I fear I still cared, but I hoped it really wasn't true. Talk about gullible.

  The front door opened, and they walked out. As they turned the corner, into the parking lot, he had his hand on her lower back.

  My phone rang. I reached for it, without taking my eyes off of Aiden and Miranda. "Hello?"

  "James." Derek sounded angry.

  Crap. Why hadn't I screened my calls? When was I going to learn?

  "Good afternoon to you too," I said while watching Aiden hold open his car door for her. I cringed.

  "What have you done?" Derek screamed into my ear.

  I sighed and lowered the binoculars. "What are you talking about?"

  "Elaine called you last night, and you didn't pick up. So then she called me and left angry messages on my phone."

  Oops. I guess I should've seen that one coming, but my world didn't evolve around Elaine and Derek. And I told him that. "I've been busy with work. You know, your old agency. The one you're always hounding me about. I missed one call."

  "Well I thought you were taking care of her." His tone was clipped.

  "She's not a plant or a pet, Derek."

  He sighed heavily. "You said you'd help."

  "I am. I had drinks with her the other night. I can't guard her or spend every second making sure she's happy. I am working."

  How could he be so upset? Yes, I agreed to cover his lie, but I didn't control Elaine's feelings. If she was furious, it was because she could tell he was lying, even if she didn't admit to it. On some level, she assumed what every other woman assumed when her man wasn't being honest. That he was cheating. I could lie for him over and over, and Elaine would still know deep down that Derek was cheating on her.

  "Well you knew you'd be working when you agreed." He wasn't shouting any more but his voice still held a terse edge.

  "What is it with men today? They don't cheat when they should, they lie about not dating because of dead wives, and now they want me to lie for them while they go sleep with someone else."

  "I'm not sleeping with anyone," he screamed.

  I had to pull the phone away from my ear. "Then what are you doing?"

  "It's personal!"

  The phone clicked. He hung up on me. Again.

  * * *

  When I got back to the office, my phone rang. This time I checked the caller ID before answering. I'd learned my lesson. It was Danny. I had a moment of panic, thinking maybe I forgot another physical therapy appointment before I remembered it was Thursday—Mrs. Rosenbaum's day to pick him up before her quilting club. I stared at his name and number for a couple of seconds then pushed the phone away. I couldn't talk to him just yet.

  The truth was, as awkward as dinner with Caleigh and her fake fiancé had been, the moment on his couch the other night had been that times ten. Only in a way that I couldn't stop thinking about it. Wondering what would have happened if I hadn't bolted. Part of me kind of wanted to find out. Which is why I didn't answer. I wasn't sure I trusted that part.

  I only had a few minutes before my meeting with the only woman in L.A. who would be upset her husband was faithful. I quickly watched the videos Caleigh and Sam had taken of Stuart, hoping he'd hook up. I wanted to make sure it copied over correctly. Nothing like giving a client a blank tape.

  I had done that once, during my first case. The poor wife had been furious. It had been the age old betrayal—a hot, young secretary in a tight skirt and three-inch heels bent over his desk. She'd left here seething and saying she was headed straight to her attorney's office. An hour later she'd returned, yelling about how the CD I'd given her was blank. I'd grabbed the wrong one. I'd never made that mistake again.

  Of course with the Livingston case, we had nothing but footage of him having dinner with a female co-worker and her husband, drinks with a couple of male friends, and hours spent on the golf course. That had to be an intriguing stakeout. (Eye roll)

  Maya's voice boomed over the intercom. "Boss, Mrs. Livingston is here."

  I pulled the thumb drive with the video files on it from my computer. "Send her in please."

  Maya showed Mrs. Livingston into my office and offered coffee or tea, but the woman declined. She looked distraught and uptight. Her shoulders were hunched. She gripped her purse causing her knuckles to go white. She knew.

  "We questioned the women on the list you gave me, and my associates have been following your husband. He is not cheating on you." I slid the drive toward her.

  That information should've been received with cheer, relief, a smile, but instead I got a down-turned mouth.

  "We had a deal," she tried to explain. "He's changing the arrangement."

  "Sometimes things need to change," I said. I hated the way my brain flitted to Danny. I quickly shook it off. "Look, there are worse things in the world than a husband who loves you."

  She blinked, and a pensive look overtook her face. Had she not considered this before? Part of me wanted to pick apart her brain and try to understand why she was so adamant about this arrangement. Was she in love with another man but felt obligated to her husband? Had she felt boredom and created this situation?

  But it would be unprofessional to question her motives. Especially since we banked on referrals. And another part of me simply didn't want to know. I didn't want to shatter any disillusions I had about commitment. Despite this business, a piece of me still believed in the fairy-tale. It may have sounded stupid, but I figured with all the marriages I watched and helped to dissolve, I'd learn the secrets to what not to do. So when or if I ever tied the knot, I'd have a leg up on all other brides.

  "Thank you very much, Ms. Bond. You've been ever so helpful," Mrs. Livingston said, stood up, and walked out.

  I hoped a couple of lawyers wouldn't have to draw up divorce papers, citing faithfulness as the reason for incompatibility.

  The intercom clicked on again. "There's someone here to see you," said Maya.

  "Who is it?"

  But before Maya could answer, Aiden appeared in my doorway.r />
  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Aiden entered my office and kicked the door shut with the back of his heel. A scowl sat on his face. "You have to stop following me," he gritted through his teeth.

  How dare he barge in here and demand I do anything. I opened my mouth to defend myself, but I hadn't done anything wrong. At least not that he knew about.

  I stood and placed my hands on my hips. I could go into the dumb blonde routine and pretend I didn't have a clue, make him spill what he knew before I did. But from experience, that never played out well with Aiden. So instead, I took the direct approach. It couldn't hurt, right?

  "I know you're taking bribes. You are the one fixing cases for the Vega crew."

  He stepped forward. The stern line of his mouth softened, but his brows still did this crazy arched thing. "How can you even think that?"

  A piece of my stone exterior chipped with the disappointed tone of his voice. "Because I saw you with Rocco yesterday."

  He didn't respond immediately. It was as if he waited for me to say more. "That's it? That's your big proof?"

  "Isn't that enough? You were both huddled together, whispering." I wasn't exactly sure about the huddled part, but it sounded extra secretive.

  He slowly shook his head. "Yes, I was with him, because he's my informant."

  What? He—ah. Oh crap.

  I opened my mouth but didn't know what to say. I needed a moment to process.

  "Your informant?" I finally chocked out.

  Aiden stepped closer and took one of my hands in his. He led me around my desk, and we sat in the two chairs, side-by-side. He continued to hold my hand, adding the other one to his grip.

  What was he doing? Why was he touching me? I didn't mind, of course, but between everything I overheard and saw this past week and now this, my head was spinning.

  He reached out and softly touched my chin with his thumb. "What happened to you?"

  The scrape was healing fine, but I hadn't applied as much concealer this morning. It was a bright canary shade of yellow with a purple edge.

 

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