Beauty and the Thief Read online

TWENTY

  I had questions.

  Lots of them.

  “So everything was fine that morning?” I asked.

  Rudy answered with a nod.

  “No signs of vandalism when you went into her apartment?”

  He shook his head.

  “What time were you there?”

  The stub of his cigarette glowed bright as he took a drag. “It was before eight. Probably right around seven-thirty.”

  I looked to Aidan for confirmation.

  “That’s around the time Dexter said he saw him,” Aidan told me in a low voice. “He skipped breakfast that day so he could go work out.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Work out?” This was the first I’d heard of this.

  “On the exercise bike,” Aidan said. “He’s trying some new workout routine, I guess.”

  I refocused my attention on Rudy, because I was thinking about something else. “June would have been in her apartment,” I said slowly. “You went in while she was there?”

  Rudy tapped his cigarette, watching as the ashes fell to the concrete, and nodded. “She was in the shower.”

  Shock must have registered on my face because he added, “I…I know her routine and knew that would be a good time to come by. I could get in and out without her seeing me.”

  “How do you know her routine?”

  “She’s told me a million times,” he said. He sucked one last time on his cigarette and then dropped it to the ground, using the heel of his bowling shoe to snuff out the embers. “She always showers first thing, then dresses and heads to breakfast. And her alarm goes off just before seven-thirty every morning. I knew I could sneak in and drop off the boxes and she’d never know.”

  He fished a pack of cigarettes out of his pants pocket and withdrew a new one. I’d had no idea Rudy was a chain smoker.

  “I knew I could get in and out without her knowing, so that’s what I did,” he said. His hand shook as he flicked the lighter. He lit the cigarette and sucked hard on the tip.

  “Why didn’t you just wait and deliver them with the packages from that day?” I asked. “June probably wouldn’t have even known.”

  His eyes flashed. “But I would have known. Look, I fell down on the job. I didn’t uphold my part of the bargain. My responsibilities.”

  The way he was acting, I was beginning to wonder if VIPS drivers signed an oath or vow or something. Rudy clearly took his job seriously.

  “I needed to get them delivered,” he said. “And I knew that if I went early, dropped them off, she’d never know, and it wouldn’t impact my deliveries for the rest of the day. I could swing them by, go pick up that day’s packages, and then keep to my normal routine.”

  “So you didn’t come in your truck? With the rest of your deliveries for the day?”

  Rudy shook his head. “I was in uniform—didn’t want to arouse suspicion if someone saw me—but I drove my own car. Took her packages out of the truck and put them in the trunk.” He hung his head. “I shouldn’t have done it.”

  Removing undelivered packages from his truck and into his own personal vehicle probably did violate company policy.

  “I’m a horrible person.” He choked up. “I don’t deserve to work for VIPS. I should probably just resign now. Turn in my badge.”

  “You get a badge?”

  He nodded. “It’s mostly symbolic. Signifies we’re part of the crew. A team dedicated to prompt and efficient delivery of packages, no matter where you are. We go the extra mile—all the miles—for you.”

  I pressed my lips together, fighting a smile, as Rudy recited the company slogan. But when his lip started to quiver and it was clear that he was choking back tears, I turned to Aidan in alarm.

  His eyes were wide, and he just offered a shrug.

  I reached out a hand and patted Rudy awkwardly on the shoulder. “Um, it’s okay,” I said.

  Not exactly great words of comfort.

  He shuddered. “It’s not. This was a dereliction of duty. There’s no other way to look at it.”

  I shot another look at Aidan and mouthed Help me.

  Aidan cleared his throat. “I think you’re being a little hard on yourself,” he said. “You got the packages delivered, right?”

  “But not promptly and efficiently,” Rudy moaned.

  “They were only a day late,” I pointed out. “That’s still pretty prompt, if you ask me. And I’d say you definitely went the extra mile by dropping them off before you even started your shift that day.”

  He rubbed his temple with his free hand. “I wouldn’t have had to do that if I’d just delivered them on time in the first place.”

  I couldn’t argue with that, so I offered what I could. “But you got them there. And that’s what matters.”

  “I guess,” he mumbled, but he didn’t sound convinced.

  The back door opened and a beam of fluorescent light shone like a flashlight on us. I squinted and shielded my eyes.

  A man in a silk shirt and black pants was staring out at us, using the flashlight on his phone as a type of spotlight.

  “Rudy, is that you?”

  Rudy offered up a wave in response.

  The man flicked off the light. “What are you doing out here?” he barked. “You’re up, man.” He paused. “Is that kid out here with you, too? We’re gonna need him, too. Game is super tight right now.”

  Rudy slicked a hand over his hair and then tucked his shirt in. “I need to get back in there,” he said.

  I nodded.

  “Did I answer your questions?” His voice was hesitant. “Or did you have more?”

  “I think we’re good for now.”

  He breathed out what sounded like a sigh of relief.

  “Okay, well, if you think of anything else, you can ask me next week.” He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and opened it. He handed me a card. “Or you can call me. This has my cell on it. I want to be as translucent as possible here.”

  “Translucent?” I repeated.

  “I think he means transparent,” Aidan said quietly.

  I fought the smile again. “Of course,” I said as I pocketed the card. “Thanks for talking to us.”

  He looked at me and then reached out and enveloped me in a hug. I tried not to gag on the smoke that clung to his clothing. “Thank you,” he whispered.

  I didn’t know what he was thanking me for.

  “For listening. And for not judging me.” He dropped his arms, offered a smile, and then headed for the door that led back into the bowling alley.

  As soon as he was gone, Aidan let out a low whistle. “Wow. Wasn’t expecting Sergeant Rudy to be out here.”

  I hadn’t been, either. I stared at the ground, lost in thought.

  Aidan toed my foot with his shoe and I looked up.

  “So, what do you think?” he asked. “And you gotta hurry, because apparently my sick bowling skills are needed back inside.”

  I let out a frustrated sigh. “What do I think? Just about the only thing I can think at this point.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “That we can probably take Rudy off the suspect list.”

  TWENTY ONE

  I stared at the half-empty box of donut holes sitting on the kitchen table. It was taunting me, trying to lure me to eat even more of them.

  But I’d already inhaled six of them, and Megan and Dylan weren’t up yet. Considering Megan was the one who’d bought them for breakfast, I figured the polite thing to do would be to leave the rest so they actually had some to eat, too.

  I pushed away from the table and refilled my coffee instead. I added a generous splash of cream, watching as the dark liquid turned a milky brown. I brought the steaming mug back to the table and continued my showdown with the plastic container parked across from me.

  Maybe I could eat just one more. Focus on the donuts instead of all the other thoughts running through my mind.

  I picked one up just as Megan’s bedroom door creaked open. Quickly
, I stuffed it in my mouth and washed it down with a generous gulp of coffee.

  Megan appeared a few seconds later, her long dark hair mussed from sleep, her eyes barely open. “Morning,” she mumbled.

  “Morning.” I stared guiltily at the donuts, wishing I’d had time to artfully arrange them so the container looked a little less empty.

  Dylan stumbled in as she was filling a cup of coffee. Bleary-eyed and with his own short hair standing on end, he offered me a smile as a greeting. Megan handed him the coffee she’d just poured and retrieved another mug from the cupboard.

  Dylan slumped into a chair and grabbed a napkin from the holder on the table. He grabbed a fistful of donuts and set them on the paper square in front of him, then methodically popped them into his mouth, one after the other.

  Megan sat down between the two of them. “How long have you been up?” she asked, suppressing a yawn.

  “Half hour or so.”

  Her eyes were a little wider now. Actually, a lot wider. She leaned close. “Did you just get home?”

  I stared at her. “What?”

  “You know.” She put her mouth to my ear and in a stage whisper asked, “Did you spend the night at lover boy’s?”

  I almost spilled my coffee. “What? No!”

  She chuckled. “Sure…”

  Dylan finished his last donut hole and licked his fingers. “I’m gonna hop in the shower before we head to the beach.” He looked at me. “You wanna join us?”

  “Yeah, come with us,” Megan said. “We can only stay for a few hours since I work at noon. That’s the perfect amount of time for you, right? And you shouldn’t get burned this early in the morning…”

  “I’m good,” I said. “But thanks.”

  Dylan shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He dropped a kiss on Megan’s head and stood up. “I’ll be ready in twenty. You?”

  “I just need to change into my suit and put my hair up.”

  He padded down the hallway and the groan of water pipes indicated he was prepping for his shower.

  Megan whirled back around to face me. “Tell me what happened. Everything.”

  “Well, I didn’t spend the night there, for one,” I said pointedly.

  She cocked her head, her eyes narrowed. “Did you bring him here?” She glanced toward my bedroom.

  “No! Of course not.”

  “Why of course not?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Because it wasn’t a date?” I reminded her.

  She waved her hand. “Sure, whatever.”

  “It wasn’t,” I repeated. “We didn’t even kiss.”

  Disappointment clouded her eyes. “Why not? He’s cute, and he’s obviously smart. You should totally hook up with him.”

  I stared at her. “How do you know what he looks like? You haven’t even met him.”

  She plunged her hand into what was left of the donuts and came away with two. She shoved both of them into her mouth and I waited while she chewed.

  She swallowed a mouthful of coffee and then pulled her phone from the pocket of the hoodie sweatshirt she was wearing. She tapped the screen, slid one perfectly manicured thumb across it and then turned it so it was facing me.

  A picture of Aidan, happy and carefree, stared back at me.

  My mouth fell open—and not just because that version of Aidan was far hotter than any I’d seen at work or on the two pseudo-dates we’d been on. He was shirtless, sitting on a beach, his tanned, toned skin glistening like he was some kind of sun god. Sporting a sexy, come-hither grin, he exuded a sexuality that suddenly made me weak in the knees.

  “Where did you find that?” I managed to ask. Saliva pooled in my mouth and I forced myself to swallow a couple of times.

  She frowned. “Instagram. Duh. What else does this site look like?”

  “That’s not what I meant. I meant how did you find him? His profile?” I was slightly aghast. “I haven’t even looked him up there!”

  Or anywhere, for that matter.

  “Oh,” she said, smiling. “That was easy. Just basic stalking skills.”

  My horror grew, especially over her choice of words.

  “All you really need is someone’s name and their place of employment. It’s a piece of cake from there, provided they’re not fully locked down. And most people aren’t.”

  I made a mental note to check the settings on all of my social media sites.

  “Megan,” Dylan called from the bathroom. “Can you grab me a towel?”

  She got to her feet. “Coming!” She picked out one more donut and pointed it at me. “You sure you don’t want to come?”

  I shook my head. Aidan’s image, the one Megan had just shown me, seared my brain like a hot iron on a steer. Instinct had me wanting to grab my own phone and search out his profile so I could see more pictures like that one, but something inside me resisted the urge.

  It hadn’t been a date.

  We’d met to interrogate Rudy. That was it.

  And despite what Denise had said—that she thought Aidan was interested in me—he hadn’t really shown any signs of this. He’d been nice, of course—Aidan was always nice—but there had been no heat in his eyes when he saw me, no fire in his voice when he’d spoken to me. Denise’s stated perceptions probably amounted to a whole lot of wishful thinking on her part. Her maternal instinct itched to see me happily paired off with someone and Aidan was the likeliest target, considering most of the other men in our immediate circle were nearly triple my age.

  I rubbed my eyes, as if this physical action would somehow remove the thoughts from my brain. I needed to focus, to not dwell on whether or not Aidan liked me. I wasn’t in middle school.

  I shifted my attention back to June and what we’d learned from Rudy at the bowling alley. His embarrassment and horror over not delivering June’s packages on time, and then the measures he’d taken to ensure their delivery the next morning, had felt genuine. I’d left the bowling alley with the firm belief that Rudy had not been involved in the theft and vandalism in June’s apartment. Of course, his sincerity could have been a total ruse, but my inclination was to believe him. And Aidan had felt the same way.

  My coffee was lukewarm now but I made no move to top it off or heat it up in the microwave. I stayed glued to my chair, still mulling over the conversation I’d had with Rudy.

  There was one thing I’d come back to last night on my drive home, one thing I was now circling back around to again.

  Jackie.

  She’d given Rudy business cards to deliver surreptitiously to the residents. And because Rudy was half in love with her, he’d complied, even though it apparently went against company policy.

  The logic behind her endeavor made sense: she wanted to provide more opportunities for residents to take yoga classes so that she could further help them improve their health.

  But that also meant she might have more incentive than I already thought to discourage residents from using other products and techniques that might compete with what she was trying to do.

  Things like June’s beauty and ant-aging products.

  I took another sip of coffee, which was now even colder.

  I knew what I needed to do.

  I needed to talk to Jackie.

  After a quick glance down the hallway to make sure Megan and Dylan weren’t in sight, I snatched another donut hole.

  Getting dressed had to be next on my agenda. No more lounging at the kitchen table, sucking down coffee and sugar bombs.

  I had to get myself to Jackie’s yoga studio. Thankfully, I didn’t need to go into stalker mode to find her. It was a Saturday morning, and although I didn’t know this for a fact, I thought it was safe to assume that she would have classes throughout the day.

  I pushed away from the table.

  Yes, I knew exactly what my plans were for the day.

  Paying a visit to Jackie Pearson.

  TWENTY TWO

  Yoga Moves was located in an aging pink stucco strip mall, sandwiched between an
orthodontist and a mattress store. Colorful flyers papered the double doors that led into the studio, advertising a variety of different classes. Hot Yoga, Yoga Fusion, Restorative Yoga, Vinyasa Flow. I had no idea there were so many different kinds of yoga.

  As I pulled open one of the doors, I wondered if Jackie taught all the classes there or if she had other instructors. My question was answered as I peeked into the studio off to the left of the front desk area, where a group of six people looked to be just beginning stretching. A young woman about my age, dressed in black yoga capris and a purple sport bra, led them through their poses.

  Calming vibes surrounded me, the result of the soft, ambient lighting, the warm orange walls, the scent of lavender and vanilla in the air, and the whisper of instrumental music piping through a hidden sound system.

  “Can I help you?” a perky voice asked from behind the counter.

  I shifted my gaze to the girl speaking to me. Probably in her late teens, she was tall and thin, her blonde hair cropped close to her head.

  I smiled. “I’m looking for Jackie.”

  A frown creased her pretty features as she scanned a notebook in front of her. “I didn’t think she had any individual sessions scheduled for today.”

  “She doesn’t. I mean, I don’t have one with her,” I amended.

  Her frown deepened. “Oh, well, I’m afraid—”

  I cut her off. “I’m actually a coworker of sorts.”

  “A coworker?” she echoed.

  “I’m the recreational therapist at Oasis Ridge.” When that earned a blank stare, I added, “The retirement home Jackie volunteers at?”

  Her expression cleared a little. “Which one?”

  “She volunteers at more than one?” This was news to me.

  The girl nodded. “There’s at least one other one but I forget the name.”

  “Oh, well, I’m from Oasis Ridge.”

  “Yes, you already said that.”

  Heat crept up my neck. “I just wanted to stop by to ask her a couple of questions about the programming.”

  “You, too, huh?” The girl shook her head.

  “What?”

  The girl pointed to a seating nook tucked around the corner. “He’s here for the same reason.”