04 - Shock and Awesome (44 page)

 
   
"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."