He watched without interrupting, his expression shifting in slow increments. First confusion, then calculation. Finally there was resignation, masked by irritation.
“Well,” he said finally. “That’s unfortunate.”
“You’re under arrest,” I replied. “For theft, fraud, and evidence tampering.”
His shoulders slumped just a fraction. “I’m going to get a good lawyer. I will have this thrown out.”
“I doubt it,” I said.
He opened his mouth, then closed it again, as if weighing his options and finding none of them workable. The charm didn’t return this time. “I want my lawyer.”
“You can call him as soon as you get to the station,” I told him.
As officers escorted him out, I stepped aside, going to find Carly to give her a quick update. She was mingling with guests, but when seeing me, immediately excused herself.
“Did you find it?” she whispered as she came close.
“It’s found. We are processing it for evidence currently. We have the individual going to the police station,” I assured her.
“Thank goodness,” Carly breathed a sigh of relief. “I can’t believe this happened. Do I know who did it?”
“We can talk about that later. I would like to get your statement after the event is over,” I mentioned.
“Absolutely,” Carly nodded. She looked over to where the mayor of Maple Ridge was waving at her. “I suppose I should go see what that is about.”
The next person I went to see was more important to me.
I found Lydia near the edge of the ballroom where I had left her, her posture composed but tight, like a wire pulled too far. She looked up when she saw me, reading my face for information.
“It was him,” she said.
“Yes.”
Her breath left her in a slow rush. “You found the money?”
“Yes.”
She stared at me for a second longer, then nodded, once, sharply, as if anchoring herself. “That’s good.”
I gestured toward a quieter corner near the windows. “Come with me.”
We stopped just far enough from the crowd that voices blurred into background noise. The lights reflected faintly in the glass, snow falling beyond them in soft, steady patterns.
“I owe you an explanation,” I said.
Her jaw tightened. “Yes. You do.”
I told her everything. The tracker in the envelope and the extra cameras I had set up in the hopes of catching Wickham. How long we had been watching to see if he would dare try to steal money from the gala.
She listened without interrupting, her expression shifting as understanding replaced hurt piece by piece.
“You couldn’t tell me,” she said finally.
“No,” I agreed. “If he knew he was being watched, he would have changed tactics or disappeared. Plus, you were a part of the investigation since he had stolen from you as well.”
She looked down at her hands. “I thought you didn’t trust me.”
I shook my head. “I trusted you from the beginning. That was the problem.”
