04 - Shock and Awesome (28 page)

 
   
"Ooh. Bitchy." I thought about the rest of her standing up to the claim and sighed. Ben and Claudia?

 
   
"It's not bitchy if it's true. As for calling me her lover..." Ben glanced at me and raised his eyebrows, "that's a no. Anyway, she's hounded me ever since."

 
   
"I can't see why," I told him, brightening inside as Ben dispelled Claudia's attempt to psyche me out. "It's not like you're gorgeous, handsome, and rich."

 
   
He gave a nonchalant shrug. "It's hard to be an Average Joe."

 
   
"Yeah, you look like you're really suffering."

 
   
Ben raised my hand to his heart and smiled. "Whatever will you do to cheer me up?"

 
   
"Give you an alibi for the week in the Caribbean?"

 
   
"I'll take that... and..." He was moving us towards the dance floor, my hand still on his heart. "For now, I'll take a dance."

 
   
"Don't you want to bid on anything?" I nodded towards the auction tables across the shortest length of the room. Details of the objects to be bid upon were displayed alongside bidding sheets the size of ballot papers, and neat, leather voting boxes, their frames edged with studs, and slit in the top to receive the secret bids.

 
   
"I'll bid on anything you choose," he told me. "Just say the word."

 
   
We danced for the remainder of the song, then the next and the next. Ben was a wonderful dancer; light on his feet, confident. I left my hand in his, with his other hand resting on my hip. We twirled and whirled, for a while, seemingly like we were the only ones in the room. If I didn't keep reminding myself that I was on a case, and there was still a fifty percent chance Ben was a top thief, I might have let myself fall into the moment, and enjoy the sensation of being in the arms of a handsome man with whom I had no history and no expectations. But I couldn't do that. I had to be professional. I had to remember that even if this was a pleasant case to work on, I was simply dressed in finery, rather than being hidden in a bush, wearing jeans and a sweater. It was still work and I still had a job to do. I still had to engineer a conversation with Justin; and I still had to keep my eye on Ben.

 
   
So, after a while, I resisted getting carried away and began to observe my surroundings and the people within. I spotted David Markham again, this time sulking in the corner; and I also saw the wet blanket, Marty
Tookey
walking around, talking to people and smiling until they politely edged away and he moved onto the next group.

 
   
I also spotted Lord Justin perusing the bidding tables before standing alone to one side, observing the room. He caught my glance and raised his glass. I nodded to him and smiled, before Ben whirled me around, dancing us across the floor. All the myriad jewels, their colors, sizes, and shapes made my head spin. Millions of dollars worn on necks, wrists, earlobes, and fingers, plus tens of thousands being bid on lots, as if they had cash to burn. Solomon was right: this was a great night to stake out potential victims. There were dozens of them, just ripe for picking.

 
   
"Would you excuse me a moment?" said Ben.

 
   
"Of course." I didn't ask where he was going. Besides, I saw him heading in the direction of the hallway where the restrooms were situated. I figured all the champagne was running through him too. Speaking of which, there was no time like the present for a bathroom break of my own, especially with Marty
Tookey
bearing down on me.

 
   
Sidestepping past a couple in deep conversation, their crucial words being "Harry Winston" and "when?" I followed in Ben's footsteps, nodding to Delgado, who pulled security duty at the door, as I passed by. The only reaction I got was a slight flare of his nostrils.

 
   
The bathroom was staffed by a surly looking woman with shoulder-length, black hair and more products than were stocked in my hair salon. Nice perfumes, hand lotion, body sprays, and the fluffiest white hand towels surrounded a little white dish that the attendant had her eyes locked on.

 
   
Three other women reached the bathroom before me and formed a short queue for the stalls. I joined them, deliberately eavesdropping.

 
   
"Then he showed me the photo of his estate," exclaimed the shorter of the two blondes. "I've always wanted to live on an estate. Imagine! In England."

 
   
Uh-oh. Leaning in quite imperceptibly, I hoped.

 
   
She continued, "He said he could imagine me living there, strolling around the grounds. He even said we'd probably meet the queen!"

 
   
Her two friends made enthusiastic cooing noises, but I wasn't sure which element grabbed them most: the estate, the title, or the queen.

 
   
"That's funny," said the brunette, "He told me that he went on a boys night out with the princes, and Kate would love to have a friend like me."

 
   
"He. Did. Not," replied the short blonde.

 
   
"Did too. He said we'd take the yacht out with them this summer."

 
   
"What yacht?" asked the taller blonde. "He has a yacht?"

 
   
"I think it belongs to some sheik friend of his. It's moored in France," said Shorty.

 
   
"Monaco, Candice," snapped Brunette. "Besides, he was just being nice. I have a date with Lord Justin tomorrow night."

 
   
"I'm having afternoon tea with him on Saturday," said Candice, flicking her blonde bob.

 
   
"Uh-oh," said the tall blonde, and they both turned to her.

 
   
"Uh-oh what?" said Candice.

 
   
"I didn't know we were talking about Justin. I slept with him last night."

 
   
Last night? After our little museum trip? How rude. All the same, I didn't throw my lot into the increasingly hostile atmosphere. It was three on one, and if they were friends and about to fight, they'd almost certainly turn on me. So, I kept my mouth shut and texted a short version of the conversation to Solomon. He sent back "!" which I thought summed it up nicely. Now Justin wasn't only my top suspect, he was also an ass.

 
   
Taking the time it took for them to get more distracted by their argument, I slipped past to use the toilet. By the time I returned to wash my hands, the three were still bickering.

 
   
"Great ball, huh?" I chipped in. "Did you bid on anything?"

 
   
"The
Chopard
ring," said Candice.

 
   
"The Barbados villa," said Brunette.

 
   
"I don't remember," said the tall blonde, "Daddy will let me know."

 
   
"Hey, did you meet the English guy yet?" I asked. "Totally cute. I knew I saw him somewhere before. I was just driving the Ferrari past the sexual health clinic on Rosemount Avenue a couple days ago, and he was standing there with a piece of paper, looking really miserable."

 
   
The tall blonde's face fell. "He was what?" she asked, looking stricken.

 
   
I flapped a towel in the air, then dried my hands. "Oh, it was probably nothing. Those English guys have such a healthy complexions don't they? Have a great night!" I tossed the towel in the basket and made a quick exit as the tall blonde started to wail. Her two no-longer bickering friends crowded her, looking both thrilled and aghast at the same time.

 
   
Okay, it was mean, but I probably just saved them, or their daddies, a ton of insurance paperwork, and they'd probably thank me later. Not.

 
   
~

 
   
I was just texting "No, not really" in reply to Solomon's "?" when I returned to the ballroom, pausing to look for Ben.

 
   
"On your right," hissed Delgado behind me. I wiggled my fingers at him in a quiet thanks before striding towards my date.

 
   
Ben looked up from the man he was speaking to as I approached, and took hold of my hand. The man greeted me politely and scooted off, leaving us alone, which was just fine by me, although not so thrilling for Claudia, who glared at me. We ignored her, Ben smiling happily at me, while behind him, Helen
Callery
, clad in a floor-skimming, red gown, climbed onto the stage and stood behind the lectern. To her rear, the auction boxes were assembled, their lids now unlocked and lying open. In her hands were several envelopes, the final bids. I didn't need to worry. I already knew I wouldn't win because I only bid a dollar on a couple of items, but I wondered if Ben would win his bid. He gave me a reassuring smile and squeezed my fingers.

 
   
Helen tapped the microphone. "Ladies and gentleman, thank you for joining us this evening to aid local schools. We're delighted to..." Her voice faded away as the room plunged into darkness, every single light snapping off.

 
   
Blinking hard, I still couldn't see a thing through the darkness. Ben's fingers slipped from mine. "Ben?" I whispered.

 
   
"Right here," he replied.

 
   
"What happened?"

 
   
"I think there was some kind of blackout."

 
   
"Great." Last time I was in a blackout, wearing an altogether different kind of get-up, a man got stabbed. So whatever happened now could only be better than that.

 
   
"Took the word right out of my mouth," said Ben. "Shoot. I think someone just fainted.
Lemme
check."

 
   
"Okay." I stood still. Not so much because I didn't want to help, but because I didn’t want to fall over someone and make matters worse, if someone really had fainted. As I waited for Ben to take my hand, I listened to whispers rippling through the crowd. Annoyance, sighing, a couple squabbling, someone near me mentioning a fainting woman and then I was bumped. I dropped my clutch bag in surprise. "Oh no," I murmured.

 
   
"You dropped your bag," said Ben, his voice suddenly next to my ear. He pressed the little clutch into my hand and I wrapped my fingers around it. He stood so close to my back, my whole rear was pressed against him. Well, not, you know, my rear end, but the rear side of me; though come to think of it, was that
his
hand on my rear? Was it wrong to have a little wiggle?

 
   
"Someone bumped me," I murmured. "How is the woman who fainted?"

 
   
"False alarm."