04 - Shock and Awesome

by Camilla Chafer

  "No! Jeez, Lily, he's deaf, not stupid. And he's not Helen Keller."

  "Of course not. Helen Keller's a woman. And dead."

  "I was going more on the blind, deaf, and super intelligent thing."

  "And dead. Don't forget that," added Lily. "Is he good looking?"

  There was a long pause. "Kind of. He has nice eyes. We didn't have a moment; but Barney licked my hand, so I definitely think we're friends."

  "Good enough for me," said Lily, "but I admit I'm easily pleased."

  "I know. You're with my brother." Lily giggled and blew a raspberry. "I'll be home in a little while. Want to hang out?"

  "You know better than to ask that. I'm not going anywhere."

  "Do you want me to get you anything? Do you need more pain medicine?"

  "No. Just come over and talk and tell me gossip. You can free my mind from its misery for a few hours."

  The pang of her pain hit me squarely in the heart. For a moment, being so pleased with myself, I forgot everything in Lily’s world wasn't perfect. I felt mean and horrible and selfish. I could do much, much better, and I would. "Done. I'll be there soon. I'm finished with Aidan and the Schuberts for now. I have news from the fraud case too."

  "You solved it? Great! Are you still buying the house?"

  "For sure."

  "I have an IKEA catalog. You want to go through it?"

  "Yup." I would have gone through any catalog she liked, just to keep her company and take her mind off her sadness for a few moments.

  "See you soon."

  "Love you, Lily."

  "Love you, too, babe."

  Chapter Twenty

  The worst thing about the job... No, wait, one of the top ten worst things about this job, when it wasn't awesome, was the waiting. Waiting for cases to come in, waiting for targets to move, waiting, waiting, waiting... This time, I was waiting for Maddox to call with an update on the investigation into Ken Moody, our wanna-be aristocrat. Since my call, there was not a word. In this case, that didn't bode well. Why didn't Moody crack the moment he knew the game was up?

  "I gotta get out of here," I told Solomon as I stood up and stretched. The boardroom felt stifling. The hammering on the floor above was starting up again, and we were yelling, though Solomon remained as tight-lipped as ever about who and what he was installing up there. I didn’t miss the epiphany that if I were such a great investigator, I could just find out for myself, but I did my best to ignore that. I just solved one itty, bitty case of false assumptions, and was instrumental in a breakthrough on another. The moment Moody confessed, I planned to take off for a few days and spend some more time with Lily. Jord, my mom, and I were keeping Lily company in shifts for a few days. I wanted to help her pack up her home as well as mine, mostly as a ruse to keep her company. It seemed strange to think that our lives had suddenly changed so dramatically. We would go from living in each other's pockets to separate homes in different neighborhoods. Our lives had changed so much in a year. Lily had Jord, and I had a new neighbor with a dog in need of therapy.

  "You got any plans?" asked Solomon, without looking up from his paperwork.

  "Um... yes?"

  This time, he looked up and smiled. The drilling stopped. His eyes rolled upwards then back down, fixing on me. I tried not to think about him drilling.

  "Why did you just say 'huurrrrr'?" asked Solomon.

  "Did I? I think you misheard. I think I said, hurry up."

  "Me?"

  "No! Me? Why? What are you in a hurry for?"

  Solomon frowned. "Nothing. What's gotten into you?"

  Nothing. That was the problem. "I bought a house," I told him, before I started thinking about things I shouldn't think about. "I'm mortgaged for oh, the rest of my life, but I do have a house. I can paint it."

  "What color?"

  "I don't know. I kind of like it yellow."

  "You bought the yellow bungalow on Bonneville Avenue?"

  "You know about it?"

  "You mentioned it a couple times. Fletcher said he saw you parked up there a few days ago."

  "That's the one. Anyway, I have to go sign the paperwork."

  "Let me know what to get you for a housewarming gift. You need anything?"

  "Not that I can think of, but thank you."

  "A vase? Pans?"

  "Pans for what?"

  "Cooking."

  I put my index finger to my chin and blinked. "I've heard of that."

  "I'll get you a cookbook."

  "I think there's an insult in that," I told him, planting a perky smile across my lips, "but thank you!"

  Solomon glanced up again. "Meals for two," he said with a wink. He raised a hand and waved before losing himself in the paperwork again. I rolled my eyes and flipped him the finger as I left. Only I did it behind my other palm, because he recently raised an objection about the number of times he’d seen me flip him off. He should just be grateful I didn't remind him how many times I'd seen him naked. I thought he'd probably like hearing that, so I kept my mouth shut as I exited, grabbing my bag from where it lay on my chair and slipping out.

  All the paperwork was set out for me by the time I arrived, so it was just a case of formalities. With my autograph on the dotted line, all at once, I felt thrilled that the Schuberts pushed for a fast sale now that the issue with the neighbor was cleared up. Admittedly, I was slightly sick at the thought of spending more than two decades in debt. What if I lost my job and the house? What if the neighborhood totally nosedived and drug dealers moved in? Of course, there was the other “what if”...

  What if it were all just perfect?

  I left the office with butterflies fluttering in my stomach and my whole body tingling with excitement. I had an awesome job, currently doing nothing but waiting, yet pulling a salary. I had a house, a wonderful family, and a best friend. All I needed now was a romantic involvement who couldn’t possibly be a cheat, my boss, or a criminal. Or maybe, I didn't need one at all. "Who needs a prince?" I told myself as I reapplied lip gloss in the car mirror. "I can save myself."

  My cell phone vibrated against my leg, which was a pretty rude reminder of what possibly lay in store for me by not waiting for Prince Charming. I rummaged around until I found it in my pale blue leather tote bag. Maddox's name flashed on the screen. He could only be calling for one thing: he had news.

  "Hey," I said, "what's happening?"

  "Nothing."

  "Still?"

  "Yeah."

  "So... short call?"

  Maddox laughed. "What I meant to say is we came up empty on Lord Justin, uh, Ken Moody. He insists he had nothing to do with the thefts and has alibis for the time windows for three of the thefts. We checked them out and they stand up. It's not him, Lexi. He may be a lowlife, but he's not our guy."

  I sank back in my seat, wishing I were in my comfy office chair. Or even better, on my couch. "His alibis are rock solid?" I asked in disbelief even though I already knew the answer. Of course, they were. Maddox would have checked, double-checked, and triple-checked.

  Maddox confirmed it with a sigh. "Yeah. There's one other thing. We've been calling the dating agency non-stop and no one's picking up."

  "That's odd. The receptionist seemed pretty efficient and I'm sure Helen Callery wouldn't tolerate unanswered calls from her big shot clients. You want me to check it out?"

  "That’s kind of why I was calling. Would you? I can clear it with your boss. I need to call him next."

  "No need and no problem." I paused, mulling over my thoughts. "You know, my gut always said Ben Rafferty was the one."

  "Then why did you discount him?"

  "We cloned Moody's cell phone and it had the evidence we needed for you to arrest him."

  "Did you clone Rafferty's?"

  "No. I was going to, but I couldn't get it and thought there was no need to when I got the call about Moody."

  "So, you don't know for sure he wasn't involved?"

  "Well..." I thought about it. What did I
have to go on? My gut kept telling me he was the thief. He had just as much opportunity as Moody, and he was damn good looking. He was even more appealing than having a European title. Yet, he seemed so insulted and forlorn when I accused him. Except, what if that were all an act? What if in reality, I alerted him and gave him notice to escape. "Pick Rafferty up," I said.

  "You're sure."

  "Yes. I was sure right up until the evidence against Moody threw me. Now he's the only one left," I said, my excitement building. Maybe I wasn’t wrong after all. "But I blew it. He knows I'm not who I said I was. And I saw train tickets! I think they were for today. Pick him up now, Maddox, but it might be..."

  "Too late," finished Maddox. He covered the mouthpiece and I heard some muffled speaking before he came back on the line. "I'm heading to his house now. Blake is putting a BOLO out on him in case we missed him. You get over to the agency and see why no one's answering. I don't like it. I'll call Solomon. I'll be in touch." He hung up before I could even wish him good luck. Not that Montgomery's one-man, crime-fighting machine needed it. Well, Montgomery's one man and the vast majority of my family. Speaking of which, why had no one invited me to dinner? Surely Ken Moody's arrest was enough to warrant a call?

  I called my mom while I drove over to the dating agency. It turned out to be a long drive, thanks to a truck jack-knifing somewhere ahead and slowing the traffic to a crawl on Century Street, the most direct route downtown.

  "Mommy's sweetie," said my mother on answering.

  "Ugh. What's up with you?"

  "I just babysat Victoria. I'm broody so I'm going to treat you like a baby for the next ten minutes."

  "Please don't. I thought you were looking after Lily?"

  "Jord got off his shift and came home and I thought I'd leave them together a while."

  "How was Lily?"

  "Sad, but very brave." My mother sniffed. "My heart breaks for them."

  "Mine too."

  "So what's happening, Mommy's precious? Daniel said he heard you helped solve a big crime."

  I rolled my eyes at the driver crossing by slowly in the opposite lane. I got an eye roll back. I wondered if she were on the phone to her mother too. "Sort of. We got a guy for something, but not the something we wanted to get him for."

  "Smoochie-poos not making any sense. Tell Mommy about it."

  "Ugh. Stop it!"

  "Sorry. I can't help it."

  "You can't get broody. It's wrong. You're..."

  "What? Old? I read a story about a woman who had a baby at seventy-two!"

  "If you do that, I'm disowning you. You have five kids and we're all grown. Can't you get a dog?"

  "I didn't think of that. Would Sophie be a cute name for a dog?"

  "I guess. So long as it isn't a Rottweiler."

  "Maybe a teacup Rottweiler," mused Mom.

  "I don't think they come in teacup size. But you should think about getting a dog or another hobby! Why aren't you taking classes? What happened to sign language? I know someone you can practice on."

  "It was too quiet; but if you know someone, maybe I'll pick it up again. It's like a secret handshake on steroids. Anyway, I can't decide between MMA for the over-fifties or embroidery for beginners."

  "Tough choice," I agreed. "I see your problem. They're just so similar."

  "Pfft," said Mom. "Maybe I could become a PI?"

  "Please don't."

  "I'd be helpful."

  "Maybe Garrett could take you on a ride-a-long?"

  "Oh! You think he would? Great! I'll call him." My mother sounded so delighted, I wondered how bored she must be lately. Truth be told, I didn't spend nearly enough time with her in recent weeks. I found myself wondering what I could do to make it up. After all, there were many, many criminals out there to catch, but only one woman who would always be my mother. "So, did you call for anything in particular, honey-bunny?"

  "I wondered if you'd like to go for lunch soon? Maybe do some shopping?"

  "That sounds just wonderful. Oh, Lexi, I'd like that a lot."

  "Great. I'll call when I finish work and we'll pick a day."

  "I'm so pleased. It'll be nice to catch up, just you and me. Now, what's this job you're working on? Are you being safe? Are you going to get hurt?"

  "Who me? No! When do I ever get hurt?"

  "Shot. Nearly thrown off a building. Broken arm. Did I get those in the right order?"

  I winced. "Uh, yeah. But not this time! This time, I just get to wear pretty clothes and date creeps."

  "That doesn't sound much different from your normal life, honey. How's that nice man of yours? Solomon?"

  "He's not mine."

  "Maddox?"

  "Not mine either."

  "You know all your brothers and sisters were married by your age."

  "Don't remind me. Anyway, Daniel is on his second marriage."

  "The first one didn’t count!"

  "And Serena just got divorced."

  "And now she's found a lovely man. You should think about settling down."

  "Jord only just got settled."

  "He doesn't have perishable eggs, darling."

  "Okay, thanks! Listen, I’m at the place I was heading to, so I have to go, but I'll call back later, okay? We'll set lunch up. Great talking to you! Don't get a baby! I bought a house! Bye, Mom!" I hung up. Fifteen minutes later, I arrived at Million Matches.

  I parked in one of the designated spots, the spaces marked by a discreet double M symbol. I figured they must have chosen to abbreviate it because no client wanted to advertise having resorted to an agency just to get a date. I really didn't know why. An introduction agency was really no different from being set up by a friend, or a family member, except you filled out a questionnaire before the date, and got a bill, and you both knew you were looking for someone special. Maybe I would try Internet dating. Lily got dozens of emails when she tried, and received hardly any penis photos. What could go wrong? My dating life couldn't get any worse. Come to think of it, I wasn't even sure I had a dating life. After all, didn't that mean actually dating?

  Before I got out of my VW, I tried calling Ben. I sighed deeply when the call rang out, not even going to voicemail. Of course, he could be really mad at me for accusing him, but when he didn't answer, I got worried. Shouldn't he want to yell at me or something...? If he were innocent.

  I had a bad feeling deep in my gut. It was possible that MPD had picked him up, but Maddox didn't call to notify me, and I was sure he would send a text message, if nothing else. Plus, it was less than an hour after putting out the BOLO. That would be fast even by Maddox's standards. I stuck the phone in my pocket, grabbed my bag and headed over to the agency's building. Just as I entered, my phone beeped. “Be careful,” read a text from Solomon, “checking on you in ten minutes.”

  "You got it, Boss," I said to my phone before sticking it back into my pocket.

  The reception desk was manned, and I announced myself, signed in, and headed to the elevator, riding it to the Million Matches floor.

  As soon as I entered, I knew something was wrong.

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood up and a cold chill ran down my spine. The filing cabinets behind the reception desk were all pulled apart, with files scattered all over the floor. The desk was swept clean and it smelled like someone had tried to start a fire. Yes, the wastebasket, peeking out from under the desk, had a blackened lip. What the hell went on in here?

  I stood very still, my hand in my pocket as I clicked the tiny switch on my phone to turn the ringer silent. The last thing I needed was for my phone to ring, alerting an intruder. I waited for what felt like many minutes, but couldn't have been more than thirty seconds. I heard nothing.

  No footsteps. No creaks. Wait. There was a muffled sound coming from somewhere down the hallway. Before I took another step, I carefully extracted my phone and texted 911 to Maddox and Solomon. Whatever happened, one of them would be on their way.

  Cautiously, I turned away from the di
sarray and towards the hallway leading to Helen Callery's office. The closer I got, the louder the muffled noise became until I recognized it was sobbing. Continuing to approach the source of the sobbing, my fists clenching and unclenching with nerves, it became very obvious to me that I didn't have a weapon.