04 - Shock and Awesome

by Camilla Chafer

  "What's four?"

  Solomon's smile widened. "They don't know who the hell the guy is."

  That didn't sound positive to me. That sounded like a problem. Way to go MPD dumping it on us. "Great. So we waltz in, solve it, and MPD is super happy?" I asked, sarcasm tainting my voice.

  "That's the idea."

  Numbers jumbled in my head beside flashing dollar signs. This sounded like a big, complicated case. "Can they afford us?"

  "Not on this scale. I've agreed to a fixed fee; plus, if we do well on this case, they put out feelers to their partners, and we get more business." Solomon shrugged like it was no big deal, but it was. This wasn't the first time he hinted at expansion plans. The sudden clatter of hammering that started up directly above our heads was only another reminder that it had already begun. Solomon had big plans for his agency and I wasn't privy to them. Yet. I could still bug his office.

  "I want you to co-lead on the case," Solomon continued after a minute, when the noise stopped. "I'll be working closely with you. All the guys will pull their weight on this one with surveillance. MPD will continue to work the case their end and we'll compare notes to close in."

  "Okay, I get that. Hey, you keep saying this is a guy. How do they know that if they don't know who ‘he’ is?" I asked, adding bunny ears in the air with my fingers.

  "The profile gives the highest probability towards the perpetrator being a white male between the ages of thirty and forty. He's smart, charming, gives the impression of being successful, and women like him. This is based on all of his reported targets being women. Aside from all of these women being rich, there's only one other common denominator, which I'll get to in a minute."

  I relaxed into my chair. Okay, I knew what the case was, and it intrigued me. "Why do I think asking them for a description of the man is a stupid idea?"

  "It isn't; and several states have tried. However, every case we think is linked describes a different man. All we know is, according to the victims, he's white and aged somewhere between twenty-five and fifty-five. An FBI profiler friend of mine took a look and narrowed it down to give us a better lead."

  I gave him skeptically raised eyebrows. "That narrows it down to, oh, only a matter of thousands in Montgomery."

  "It's not much, I agree, but it's a start. Now, while each case describes a very different person, it's the crimes that indicate it's the same man. Evidence suggests he doesn't stay in town long, targets a few women, makes his move and disappears. MPD are scared that if they don't catch him within the next couple weeks, he'll go underground, move on, and the case will go cold. Once he moves across state lines, there's little we can do, but wait for another jurisdiction to get suspicious and raise concerns. Compounding that, there are bigger gaps between each time he appears, not to mention the women are often too embarrassed to come forward. They were duped and robbed. They might not get another opportunity to catch him. MPD are desperate."

  "Why does he only target women?" I wanted to know.

  "We don't know for certain that he doesn't target men, too. At least, none have come forward, but they could be embarrassed. Each case interview with a victim describes the perp as charming and dashing. He knows the psychology of women, how to get under their skin, and steal what he wants: their money. He knows how to disappear, and has an exit route planned from the moment he hits town. My profiler guy has yet to work up a full profile, but he's sure he's attractive, and can pass for different ages. He's also smart, knowledgeable of both people and technology, very comfortable in his own skin, and a terrific actor. He has no problem committing crimes. He's never hurt anyone that we know of, so we don't think he's violent, but then, he's never been cornered. We need to stay on alert."

  "I don't suppose anyone thought to take a photo?"

  "Not a single photo has come to light that is usable. We have a couple of the back of his head, but he's been blonde, brown-haired, and gray. Eyes described as brown, blue and green. Strong chin, weak chin, slim nose, fat nose... no description is identical. Digital photos disappear. He could be anyone."

  "So how are we supposed to find this chameleon?"

  "You're going to date him."

  "Excuse me?" I gasped. Did I hear that right? Also, what?

  "Here's the other common denominator. He meets his victims through high-end establishments. Previously, he posed as a realtor for exclusive properties, a hotel magnate, a playboy, and a Hollywood producer. In this case, we think he's operating via a dating website exclusively for matching millionaires. The website is co-operating fully. Actually, it was they who brought the case to MPD after two complaints were made, and MPD made the connection. It was a lucky break; and so far, he doesn't know that we know he's in town."

  "So, he doesn't know we're onto him?" I surmised.

  Solomon nodded. "That's what we think. Investigations have been highly covert so far, but that's not to say he doesn't smell a rat. The moment he does, he's gone, and the case collapses. Again. The dating agency wants to keep this as quiet as possible, or risk losing their clients, so they'll co-operate any way they can."

  "And you want me to be the honeytrap?" I blew out the lungful of air I was holding in. "I hate to point out the obvious, but I'm not exactly a millionaire, and even if I were, who's to say he'd go after me?" He totally would though. Both Solomon and Maddox knew that. I was way more appealing than they to the kind of guy who could extract jewels from a rich woman by sleight of hand.

  Solomon smiled, and really, that should have been enough to worry me. "You're going to be Montgomery's newest, most eligible, most loaded bachelorette, looking for love. We'll write your bio based on everything the profile suggests might appeal to him and..."

  "Just wait for him to contact me," I finished, sucking the air right back in and puffing out my cheeks. Realizing I probably looked like Humpty Dumpty, I blew the air out again and pursed my lips. Seriously? Me, posing as a millionairess? Dating handsome, rich, eligible men in the hopes that one of them would turn out to be a master criminal? It didn't sound arduous; it sounded kind of fun.

  It certainly beat working the dating websites, looking for The One amidst a punchbowl of nuts. All I had to do was find the most rotten one and have fun doing it.

  No problem.

  Chapter Two

  "It sounds like a dream come true!" squealed Lily after I finished telling her about Solomon's crazy idea to use me as bait. Rich bait, but bait all the same. I had the uncomfortable mental image of me as a worm, wriggling on a hook, waiting for a big, sharp-toothed fish to swallow me whole while simultaneously robbing me. It wasn't the nicest daydream I ever had. It certainly didn't beat the filthy one I accidentally had earlier while looking at Solomon's rear when he exited the office after our meeting.

  "You think?" I asked, arching an eyebrow at Lily's delight.

  "Yup."

  I frowned, wondering if Lily fully grasped the concept of putting me in harm's way, or if she was just delighted at the idea of me working with two of Montgomery's hottest men, in my humble opinion anyway. "Which bit?"

  "The being a fancy millionaire and going on dates with rich men bit."

  "Ahh. I wasn't sure if you meant the working with both Solomon and Maddox bit."

  Lily pulled a face and promptly shook her head before turning away to lift the tea kettle from the stove. "Oh, no. No, no, no. That bit sounds like a nightmare." She poured boiling water into a pair of matching mugs, and appeared to merely waft the teabags through the water before extracting them and depositing them in the trash. She handed me a cup and I followed her to the living room. Visiting Lily was great, for three important reasons. One: she lived right downstairs from me in the three-family building her parents owned. Two: she was my best friend. And three: since she hooked up with my brother, Jord, she was the embodiment of happiness, not to mention pregnant with my niece or nephew. She wasn’t showing yet, not that the lack of a tummy stopped the constant stray hands of my extended family from attempting a fondle. I was p
retty certain Lily would take out a restraining order against us soon.

  "I know, right? I thought I'd have a heart attack when I saw them in the office together." I flopped onto the sofa and cradled the hot cup, raising it to my lips and trying not to shudder as I caught a whiff. It smelled, in a word, revolting. Lily's pregnancy triggered a health kick that was having serious repercussions on me. Gone was the wine, ice cream and, well, all the damn good stuff. Instead, she stocked the kitchen with teabags that smelled like dumpsters, cardboard crackers, and more fruit and vegetables than two people and a regular visitor could consume. I couldn't wait until she fully embraced the term "eating for two" and returned to normal.

  "You don't like your tea?" Lily asked, taking a sip while beaming.

  "Delicious," I replied, my inner voice adding, "if I didn't have taste buds."

  "There's a new health food store near Monty's," Lily informed me, namedropping our favorite pizza place and giving my stomach reason to grumble. A pizza with all the toppings would easily take away the foul stench of Lily's "health" tea. I resolved to order one the moment I escaped. If I had to spend the next couple weeks eating with fancy forks and knives, I planned on making the most of eating finger foods while I could. "I got you some organic bran. It keeps you regular."

  "That's so thoughtful." I grimaced, wondering what else on earth was not going through Lily's head that made her worry about keeping me regular.

  "That's what BFFs are for." She leaned in, fist-bumped me and then reclined, placing her feet on the coffee table. As I looked around, I saw evidence of my brother everywhere. He definitely planted his feet firmly under the table, and as far as I was concerned, it was about time too. He could do no better than Lily, who not-so-secretly crushed on him for years until one day, bam! They were in a relationship, expecting a baby and planning a wedding. I had to hand it to them: they really got on with things once their minds were made up. "Hey, listen, I'm dying to know more about this crazy scheme you kids are cooking up," she said, sounding suspiciously like a character from Scooby Doo, "but I have some news that I don't know how you're going to take."

  "Twins?" I gasped.

  Lily frowned. "No. Nothing baby-oriented. It's about the building." She waved her free hand in a large circle in the air, clearly indicating our home. "My parents accepted an offer on it last night."

  "That's great, isn't it?" I asked, taking in Lily's reticence.

  "Well, yeah. It's a cash offer, which is great in this market, and my parents got what they wanted, so Jord and I can go house hunting, which is really great." I sensed a “but” coming, so I waited for Lily to stop fidgeting. "So, um, we have to move in four weeks."

  "Four weeks!"

  "It's a condition of the sale."

  "Can you even close an escrow in four weeks?"

  "I have no idea. My parents are handling it all. They said Jord and I can stay at their house until we find a place, as they aren't using it. I'm sure you can come too. There's plenty of space."

  It was a nice offer, but somehow the thought of sharing with Lily and Jord didn't thrill me. It's all very well having roomies, but I grew out of that a long time ago. I liked my own front door and knowing that no one but me judged the microwave food in my refrigerator. Plus, three weeks ago, I'm fairly certain I heard them having sex, and it wasn't an episode I looked forward to repeating. On the other hand, I could probably stay with my parents, although my parents would, no doubt, pester me some more about my unconventional job; and my mother would definitely try to sign me up in one of her night classes.

  "Think about it, okay? I know it's all really sudden, but I wanted to make sure you had plenty of time to start looking for a place."

  "No, it's fine," I assured her, remembering how excited she was just last week as we browsed properties on the Internet. Lily babbled on about square footage and whether to paint the nursery in neutrals, or wait until the baby was born. This was not my moment to be selfish. I swallowed, plastered a bright, reassuring smile on my lips, and dared a confident voice. "I'll be fine. Don't worry about me. I'll start looking for a place right away. No problem at all. Piece of cake."

  ~

  Finding a place to live was so not a piece of cake. Not even a crumb. Not even a sniff of a crumb. It was appalling. There wasn't a single decent sounding place in the whole of Montgomery’s rentals pages of the local newspaper. There were plenty in Frederickstown with good square footage, but the addresses didn't fill me with hope. Once upon a time, Frederickstown was built as a commuter suburb, but no one really thought about transport links, so the area went to seed. Amongst the poor, but nice folks who resided there, were definitely some undesirables. Out of the four apartments that looked the most promising, three were located in the don't-walk-at-night part of town, and the other was at the center of a recent gang shooting.

  "What is the world coming to?" I asked myself, sounding eerily like my mother. I ran my finger down the rest of the column, over the second, and onto the third, moving away from apartments, to studios and finally, to room rentals. No thanks. I categorically didn't want to live with anybody, unless he was really hot and knew how to clean and had a lot of really hot friends, none of whom were in law enforcement. I'd so gone off the uniformed type. For now.

  Reaching for the phone, I called one of the few women better informed than a longstanding police officer with a network of informants. "Mom, do you know any apartments for rent?"

  "Let me think about it," said my mother. Cooking sounds clanged through the line and my nostrils flared as I imagined the aroma of whatever she had bubbling in the background. "Mrs. McIntyre went into a home. I heard her son was thinking about renting it."

  "Is it in the same condition as when she lived there?" I asked, recalling the floral drapes and overstuffed chairs, not to mention the amazing collection of china birds and plates. It was a lot better than recalling the things Mrs. McIntyre was getting up to in the nursing home she recently moved into.

  "Oh, yes."

  "I'll pass."

  "Why? It's so close. Your father and I could come to your house for dinner."

  "Compelling as your argument is, I think I need something closer to, uh, work."

  My mother bashed something in the background, and I jumped before she came back on the line. "Of course you do, honey. How's the investigating going? Is there any career progression? Did you know your sister started her own business? We're so proud."

  "It's going okay, I just got a new case." I paused, my forehead wrinkling as I thought about career progression. I really didn't think there was any. Solomon was the boss. The rest of us were merely minions. Right now, I was the lowest of the minions. Maybe one day, I would be top minion. Only if Delgado, Fletcher, Flaherty, and Lucas offed the job first, and the only way I saw any of them going was if they got an amazing offer elsewhere, retired, or were killed. Cheerful thoughts. "Maybe promotion one day," I told my mother.

  "Oh, thank the Lord," sighed Mom, "I was getting worried. Your sister has her own business. Did I mention that? She's the boss."

  "Yes, I..." I started before she cut me off.

  "Maybe you'll start your own detective agency. Your father would probably want to join you. I wonder who would be boss? Maybe you could call yourselves Graves and Graves. Or Graves and Daughter."

  No, thanks. "Solomon won't let me go. He really needs me," I told her, even though it was a semi lie. He needed me as much as a hippo needed a tutu; but I was good at the job, and he did need a woman on the team to get to the places the guys couldn't go... like the ladies’ bathroom. That didn't necessarily mean he needed this woman, but I won’t go into that.

  "I'm glad it's going so well for you, honey. Have you asked for a raise yet?"

  "I only just returned to work."

  "Because you were hurt in the line of duty!"

  "I still received my salary while my arm got better, and he paid my hospital bill, too."

  "As he should. After he put you in danger."

&n
bsp; "I think that was mostly my fault," I protested, since it was. I chose to go to a lonely warehouse on the outskirts of town, unarmed, and it ended badly. I was lucky to be rescued in time, although I did crack the case, helping to bring down a gang of drug smugglers. "So, about any rentals…"

  "If I hear of any, I'll let you know. Janice Markowitz might be getting married to her young man. She has that nice condo two blocks over from you."

  I didn't know Janice, as she was a few years older than I, and though she went to my school, we never socialized. I did see her kissing my brother, Daniel, once, when they were both seniors, and I pretended to puke, so I figured she didn't like me much. Her condo was pretty nice, I recalled. I wondered if she held a grudge.