Call Me! (23 page)

“In that case, I’ll see you in five minutes. In the den.”

SOPHIE WASN’T LYING about Ben. Three of the Big Six publishers are considering entering a bidding war for his book, provided I give my blessing. Ben says he found time to write every Monday and Tuesday for nearly a year, and only recently completed his journal. He claims he never intended to it into a book, but when the news about my identity broke, he thought, “Why not?”

I check several online sources and find similar content. Ben’s credentials are mentioned, and he explains he’s been my teacher, my confessor, and my lover, and claims to have practically raised me these past six years. Those claims are generally true. Not to mention he helped me cope with the loss of my mother after she died on the operating table at City Hospital four years ago.

Sophie interrupts me from time to time, with, “Dani! Check it out!” or “Did you hear
that
?” But it’s mostly a rehashing of old news. I’m pleased and gratified to see the list of private eyes who’ve signed the pledge to bring down
ManChild
has grown to twenty. They’re calling themselves
Dani’s Detectives
!

As I lazily review yet another article about how Ben Davis’s book deal is expected to fetch between one and two million dollars, I click the link on his name and it takes me to his biographical data. Where he grew up, where he went to high school and college. There’s a link on the word college, and it takes me to a website where Gator alumni can view their former classmates. I glance at the TV and see a commercial featuring a famous quarterback throwing passes in a backyard pickup game, talking about the jeans he wears. The commercial reminds me of Roy’s football story, so whatever it is that makes private investigators think the way we do—causes me to click on Gator Football, which eventually takes me to their football schedule for Roy’s junior year.

I must’ve made a noise because Sophie says, “What’s up?”

“They didn’t play Georgia Tech.”

I type some more, and Sophie comes over to sit beside me.

“I didn’t catch that,” she says.

“Ben and Roy went to University of Florida.”

“So?”

“Roy said because of Ben’s prank he missed the Georgia Tech game, and had to sit on the bench when the team played in the Independence Bowl.”

“But they didn’t play Georgia Tech?”

“Right.”

“Maybe it was their sophomore year.”

“Florida didn’t play Georgia Tech the entire decade.”

“You checked all that just now?”

“There’s a chart that shows the Gator football schedule since the beginning of time. And guess how many times Florida has played in the Independence Bowl throughout history?”

“I have no idea.”

“Never!”

She studies my face. “I know this is big news, but I’m not sure why. What you’re saying, Roy lied about the football games. Why’s that such a big deal?”

“It means he lied about why he had a grudge against Ben all these years.”

“So it must’ve been some other reason?”

“Or none at all.”

Sophie frowns. “You lost me.”

“Until last week, Ben has never mentioned Roy. Not once. If he had, I’d remember. Now, according to both of them, they’ve maintained regular correspondence every year.”

“So what are you thinking?”

“What if Ben set me up instead of Roy?”

SOPHIE’S EYES GROW big. “But…
how
?”

“I’m just walking through this, seeing how it sounds out loud,” I say.

“I
love
it when you talk PI,” she says. “Please, go on!”

“When Ben and I came to our understanding about me sleeping upstairs and being gone two days a week, he figured it was just a matter of time before I left him. So he decided to write a book that would make him a millionaire. He accommodated my crazy demands so I’d stay with him.”

“Why? He already knew your story.”

“Ben knew the world had to see us as a happily married couple. Otherwise, they’d label it a revenge book.”

“And that would be a problem because?”

“A tell-all book, written by a bitter ex-husband, would be denounced by the media. But a book written with my help and consent would be welcomed with open arms.”

Sophie says, “I see where this is going. But I want to hear you do the lead in.”

“If I’m Ben and I’ve written a million-dollar story that can’t be published because I have to protect my dear wife’s identity, what’s the best thing that can possibly happen?”

Sophie raises her hand, pretending to be an eager student in school. “Ooh! I know! I know! Call on me!” she says.

She’s excited. Her face, animated.

I remember our kiss.

“You’re into role play?” I say.

“Of
course
! But if we play
teacher’s pet
, I get to be teacher.”

I stare at her blankly.

To my complete shock, Sophie goes into character. “Dani?” Then she uses a small girl’s voice to represent me. “
Yes, Miss Alexander
?” —“You’ve been naughty, Dani. Very, very naughty. You’ll have to stay after school and help me with some chores.”
—
“
Yes, Miss Alexander
.”

She winks at me, and I shake my head, wondering what the hell I’ve gotten myself into. This is a side of Sophie I’ve never seen. I stare at her incredulously as she keeps the fantasy going.

“Dani?” —“
Yes, Miss Alexander
? —“Climb up the ladder and fetch me the blue book on the top shelf. Don’t worry, I’ll hold the ladder for you.” —“
But Miss Alexander, I’m wearing a skirt! You’ll be able to see my pretty pink panties
!” —“It’s okay, Dani. I’m your teacher. Now hurry up, there are lots of books to fetch from the shelf.”

I roll my eyes.

She says “Whew!” and pats her heart, as if breathless, and gives me another wink. “What do you think?”

I frown. “You screwed up my big aha moment.”

“What? Oh. Sorry. But we both know what you’ve done.”

“Which is?”

“You’ve cracked the case.”

“You see it, yes?”

“Of course,” Sophie says. “Ben got Roy to set you up.”

“Because?”

“He couldn’t personally reveal your identity. The media would crucify him.”

“Exactly,” I say, “and his book is ready to go at the exact moment in history the world wants to read it!”

“And Ben gets to do media interviews and talk shows!”

“But there’s one thing that doesn’t add up,” I say.

“What’s that?”

“All Ben needed Roy to do is blow my cover. Why go through the whole thing with Carter Teague?”

“To take nude photos of you?”

I pause a minute before saying, “You know what I think?”

“What?”

“I think Roy concocted that scheme on his own.”

“Why?”

“Ben doesn’t have any money, so he probably asked Roy to break the news to the media as a favor. Roy probably checked around and learned I’ve done some decoy work. He and Carter are either married or dating, and Roy got her to set me up so they could take the photos of me.”

“To blackmail you?” Sophie says.

“To blackmail Ben, and make him share the book royalties.”

“Or sell the pictures on the internet.”

I think about that, and remember how Carter kept trying to talk me into leaving the door open between our hotel rooms. At the time I was worried she might be planning to video me, and now I think my initial instinct was right. When I locked the connecting door she was forced to use her cell phone camera as a backup.

Sophie says, “Roy could break the news about you being Mindy Renee, then cash in on your world-wide popularity by selling, or threatening to sell your nude photos.”

“Right. But I nipped that in the bud by destroying the pictures at the restaurant.”

I stare into space a minute, thinking.

“What?” Sophie says.

“Wednesday, in my office, Roy asked if I wanted to know what I could do to keep him from going public with the news. And I said I didn’t want to hear it.”

“What do you think he was talking about?”

“Letting him take more nude photos.”

“So he could get back in the game,” she says. “But he broke the news anyway.”

“Probably got a nice chunk of change from the tabloids.”

“What a jerk,” Sophie says.

“He certainly is.”

“Actually, I was talking about Ben,” she says. If you’re right about how all this happened, Ben’s a bigger jerk than Roy.”

“We don’t have proof that Ben had anything to do with it,” I remind her. “And all that talk about how Ben had a weird thing for me when I was fifteen? We’ve only got Roy’s word for any of that being true. And think about this: if Roy’s telling the truth, it would have to be the biggest coincidence in history.”

“What coincidence?”

“That Ben fell in love with me when I was fifteen, living in Portland, and two years later he somehow tracked my mom and me down and got a tutoring job?” That’s ridiculous. What happened, Ben was out of work and posted he was a former college professor looking for tutoring jobs. He didn’t find us, my mom found
him
.”

“I don’t care about that part,” she says. “I’m convinced Ben is guilty. One hundred percent.”

I look at her curiously. “Are you just saying that because you want to get into my pretty pink panties?”

“Yes, absolutely!” she says, smiling.

“You know my answer to that.”

“You’re still married?”

“Yup.”

She sighs. “Such a pity.”