Philip scoffed, only half listening as he resumed his work.
Why was Helen so anxious? And why had she been in such a hurry to go? Terence said she had started here only six months ago, which begged the question, when had the thieving begun? Darren was still suspect number one in Vero’s mind, but Helen had just become suspect number two.
“Well, that’s everybody,” Terence said. “Where would you like to start today, Vero?”
Vero snapped open a plastic bag. “I think I’ll start by taking out the trash.”
Chapter 4
Less than an hour into Vero’s date with Darren, it had become clear that her plan was going to flop. There were two critical problems with it. One, her mark was unfathomably boring. She had spent her last three shifts hanging around his cubicle, asking him questions about his day-to-day responsibilities at the bank in the hopes of coaxing a clue out of him, but all he’d wanted to do was talk about himself. She was certain she’d fall asleep before she managed to get anything useful out of him. And two, she might have laid it on a little thick when she’d suggested they go out to dinner. He was obviously convinced this was a real date and was now completely disinterested in discussing anything related to his job.
Darren was all clumsy hands and overly optimistic tongue. It was a little like playing Whac-A-Mole with a clingy octopus with boundary issues. His wallet was in the pocket of his khaki slacks, but if she reached for it now, it would only egg him on, and the last thing Darren needed was any more encouragement. It was obvious he wasn’t keeping any big secrets in his pants.
His cell phone, however, was inside the breast pocket of his jacket.
Getting it away from him would be easy. Checking it in his car while he was trying to feel her up would be a bit more challenging.
“Let’s go inside,” she suggested, throwing open the passenger side door and fumbling in her pocket for the spare set of keys she’d slipped from Ramón’s apartment that morning.
Darren chased after her to the side door of the garage. “Are you sure we should be here?”
“It’s my cousin’s shop. He won’t mind.” She tried the first three keys on the ring without any luck. It wasn’t easy with Darren breathing down the back of her neck. The fourth key glided smoothly into the lock. Darren was all over her the second they were inside. She walked him backward through the garage as he pawed at her.
“My cousin has a sofa in his office,” she said, angling her face away from his when he tried to kiss her.
“How about we do it on the workbench? That sounds really hot.”
“How about I hit you with a tire iron and clamp your balls in my cousin’s vice?”
“What was that?”
“I said, wow, that sounds really nice.” She slid her hands down his chest, then inside his jacket. His breathing grew ragged, his mouth more urgent in its clumsy explorations as her fingers groped near his pockets.
Eureka.
Vero slid his cell phone free, stuffing it in the back pocket of her jeans as his face burrowed down the front of her shirt. She hauled him out of her cleavage by his chin. “I’m going to the bathroom to freshen up for a minute. Don’t go anywhere. And don’t touch anything,” she warned him as she backed through the door to the hallway.
Vero had never been so relieved as when she closed it between them. She leaned back against it, taking a second to catch her breath. A light was on inside her cousin’s office across the hall, where he had left a small desk lamp on. She peeked her head inside. A Ramón’s Towing and Salvage sweatshirt was abandoned on the sofa, and a worn-out copy of a sci-fi novel had been left open, facedown, on the table beside it.
“Come on, Vero! Where’d you go?” Darren called impatiently from the garage.
“I’ll be there in a minute,” she called back.
She jogged down the hall to the bathroom and locked herself inside. Darren’s phone came alive with a single swipe, and she tapped the four-digit code she’d seen him use when he’d checked his messages at the restaurant.
She worked fast, skimming past his various dating and social media icons and pausing over one for a banking app… to a different bank.That’s odd. Why not open an account at the institution where he works? Why bank somewhere else?Unless he’d been making deposits he didn’t want his employer to know about.
She thumbed the app open and waited for a text message to appear with the temporary security code that would allow her to access his account. Once she was inside, she did a quick audit of his transactions. The only deposits were his paychecks every other Friday. They were higher than he deserved, but his balance wasn’t nearly as impressive as he’d made it out to be while he’d been spouting off at the mouth about his assets over dinner. It was possible, she supposed, that he’d been keeping the stolen cash under his mattress. Though given what she’d learned about him tonight, she was beginning to doubt he was the thief at all. If he was stealing money from the bank, what was he doing with it? He’d ordered the cheapest item on the menu at the restaurant, he drove an economical car, and he was still living with his mom.
A crashing sound came from the garage. Then a slam.
Damnit.She’d told Darren not to touch anything, hadn’t she? She logged out of his banking app and stuffed the phone back into her pocket as she hurried back to the garage. She flung open the door. The light over the workbench was swinging a little, casting an eerie shadow over the lone figure inside.
Not Darren.
Vero’s breath hitched. The man stood with his back to her, his arms braced on the workbench. She knew him. Would know that shape anywhere. The thoughtful, tense hunch of his shoulders. The way his thin white T-shirt conformed to them, hugging the muscles underneath.
She hadn’t seen Javier Romero in three years. Not since he’d left her and she’d left for college.
