To Catch a Thief Read online

  "Okay, so tell me what happened in full detail. Leave nothing out." She grabbed a handful of popcorn and munched loudly.

  "Okay, I was leaving a meeting, and out of nowhere he snatched my arm and pulled me into a storage closet."

  She moaned low. "Hot already."

  "Then he's all angry in my face, saying we should pretend to not know each other which, yes, is sort of bullshit because he’s the one who ruined my life."

  “Did you tell anyone at work about this?”

  I shook my head vehemently causing my curls to bounce. “Absolutely not. And give him the satisfaction? Hell no. He’s trying to run me off. And it’s not going to work.” I shoved my hands through my hair and dragged it into a messy ponytail. “After what he did. Let his brother make me the scapegoat for his crimes. Pretend to care about me, all the while he was helping to frame me. He’s the one who should be run off.

  "All right, what was it like?"

  I ran my tongue over my bottom lip, my body swearing that I could taste him there, feel him there like an imprint. "I don't know. It felt familiar, I guess. I didn't think it was possible, but he's better than he was."

  Miriam whooped and did a little dancing jig in her lotus pose. "Oh my God. That is hot. Hot things never happen to me. Does it seem like he’s going to play fair with this client or dick you over?"

  “He’s already dicking me over. He’d barely let me get a word in edgewise when we were in the meeting with the client. I felt like I was just arm candy. And then when we were leaving, he tells me that the real meeting with the decision maker won’t be until later. He had me spinning my wheels all day trying to get a crash course on the client in record time, and he knew it would be unnecessary. Though, knowing him, he’d have left me adrift if I hadn’t prepped.” I slumped back against my new love seat that had been delivered that evening. “I can’t win here.”

  Miriam placed her glass down on my coffee table none too gently. “Oh no, you don’t. You got the surprise of a lifetime sure. But he wants you to run scared and give him what he wants. You aren't going to do that.”

  “But what am I going to do? One day with him, and my nerves are shot. I’m exhausted.”

  “That’s because you’ve been playing fair.”

  “You're getting this look on your face and it worries me.”

  “This is my plotting face. Oliver Wexler unsettled you today. I have ideas on how to get him back. “

  “How do you propose I do that? I love this job. I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize it.”

  “You won’t. I work in Human Resources at Basleton Tech. There’s a lot of shit you can get away with.”

  “I dunno. It’s not really my style. I feel like my good work will stand for itself.”

  “If he ever lets you show it off. That meeting sounds like a nightmare.”

  She did have a point there. If Oliver was going to be uncooperative, then I was going to have to find a way around him. “Okay, what do you have in mind?”

  "You have to have a plan. You know, something more than outshine and run circles around him."

  "I just feel like I don't know enough about him. I'm going in blind. How does he know the Lords? He's not just some regular employee. How did he go from the Oliver I knew to where he is now?"

  "All right, so let's find out."

  I frowned at that. "Like, what do you mean, find out?"

  "Let's find out. There's so much information about people out there on the internet. Maybe he's someone's nephew. You know how these rich guys are, and these guys are like the richest of the rich. So let's just figure it out."

  "The last thing I want to do is investigate my bosses."

  She gave my hand a pat. "It’s not exactly investigating. We're just going to poke around a little bit. Besides, it will give you ammo. You're going to run circles around him, but you need information on your boy Ollie, who his friends are and what he's been up to. You also need to be, well, yourself. Total rock star on top of it all. Arm yourself for battle, girl."

  Miriam was right. I needed to prepare because I was going to do battle.

  Oliver

  A loud crack sent the billiard balls rolling into their disparate holes, and I frowned down at the pattern in front of me. It wasn't terrible, but not the best I could have done either.

  As I assessed my next shot, my mate Liam took a swig of his beer as he leaned against the wall of his flat. Liam was that bloke. The one you never really knew what he did for his money. I knew he'd grown up with money, but I also knew his folks had disowned him. Exactly who paid for his flat and his somewhat extravagant lifestyle, I had no idea. And he never gave away any clues.

  When you were tapped to join the Elite as we all were, you were given access to your pledge pod’s secrets to a point. So I knew Liam’s family had disowned him. Given who they were and what they’d done, he was better off without them. But the intricacies remained a mystery to me and our other pledge pod member, Alex.

  Alex, like Liam, had grown up with the silver spoon in his mouth. But unlike Liam, his family still very much wanted him in the loop. Family business and all.

  And sadly, they both knew about my brother. They knew that Max was a thief and a con man, that he’d been to jail. But that was barely scratching the surface. There was so much more they didn't know and I very much wanted to keep it that way.

  Liam watched me as he leaned next to a window that showed off the backdrop of London. "All right, so you know her well then?"

  "Yeah, you could say that."

  "Mate, you're not giving me much to go on."

  I wasn’t used to this. Mates I could confide in and shit. The way I grew up, if you confided in anybody it would be used against you later. "She used to date my brother."

  Alex whistled low. "The mysterious brother. I already don’t trust the girl. She makes poor choices in boyfriends.”

  "Oh, I know. But the thing you need to know about Max is, when he wants to be, he can be charming. And that's the thing about narcissists, they look kind, they look loving, but the manipulation is real. I watched Max do it to me, to Tessa. I watched him do it to Rian.”"

  "Your brother's girl, mate. Not wise. Especially not your brother." Liam said, taking another swig of his beer.

  "You think I don't know that?"

  Alex prowled around the billiards table waiting for me to miss a shot. He’d be doing that for a while. "Do you think he knew?"

  "What, that I had a thing for Rian?" I shook my head. "I think he probably suspected something happened, given the way he called the cops on her."

  Liam whistled low. "So you told the police she was with you all night?"

  I nodded. “I gave her an alibi and pointed a finger at Max. And I pointed out one of his hidey holes. They found evidence of the burglary, so they let her go."

  Another low whistle. "Jesus Christ, he knows you sold him out?"

  "Yes, but we never talked about it. There was an eyewitness testimony that put him in the vicinity of the stash house, so I got lucky and never had to testify against him. But something in my gut says he knows. That he always knew I’d given the cops evidence against him.”

  If I was being honest with myself, I knew he knew. He had to know. But he’d never said. Even before he and Rian started dating, there had been tension between us. He’d resented having to look after Tessa with me away at school.

  He made you pay for it though, didn’t he?

  "But Max never called you out on it?"

  I shook my head. "Nope. He was let out on a fucking technicality. His little hideout was a known hideout for other thieves and con men, too, and it left enough reasonable doubt. We haven’t spoken since.”

  I ground my teeth thinking about the first time we'd seen Rian. It had been at the Notting Hill fair. She had the prettiest smile I'd ever seen. Her hair had fallen in soft wavy curls down her back, and she had an olive complexion and lips that were almost a little too full and wide for her face. Her pert nose and that
dimple when she smiled instantly attracted me. From the moment I saw her, I couldn't take my eyes off of her. I had been working up my nerve to go and talk to her. Next thing I knew, I came back from the loo and Max had his arm around her already, staking his claim. And I knew compared to me, Max was sunshine and light. Hard to resist.

  Liam leaned on his pool cue as I took my final shot. “So, what are you going to do with the girl?”

  “You mean besides make her so miserable she wants to leave?”

  They both exchanged glances. Like I was being daft. Alex cleared his throat. “Do you really think that’s going to work? Maybe just get her assigned to a different division.”

  I missed my bloody shot and Alex smirked as he leaned over and sunk it easily. “Look, get her recommended to marketing. Or on scout sighting. That will take her out of London a lot.”

  “Oh yeah, and how am I supposed to pull that off exactly?”

  Liam shrugged. “Talk to one of the lads.”

  I knew they were trying to help, but they were making it worse. I needed her gone. But I also needed it to be her idea. Rian and I were playing an intense game of chicken, and it mattered who blinked first. “First of all, I’m not talking to one of them. The whole point is to show that we’re learning and evolving and becoming what they need us to be. I’m not running to them with my bullshit problems. I can think of other ways to be rid of her.”

  "Fine. Do you have a plan for getting her gone?” Liam asked.

  I slid him a glance that said, do you even know me? I had a plan. Make her miserable and she’d leave. Okay fine, I needed to work out the details of my plan.

  Alex sunk his corner shot. “Maybe this is still salvageable. You could try to talk to her again. Be less hostile this time.”

  Less hostile. "If I’m less hostile, she won’t leave. That’s the goal.”

  “You know, you can't just tell her you don't want to know her. You attract more bees with honey. If you'd have just talked to her and told her what you needed your life to look like, she might have complied. But no, you just antagonized her."

  I frowned. "I might have, um…" I stopped myself.

  "You might have what?"

  I wasn't telling them. There would be no end to the shit they would give me. "Fine. I might have gone a little overboard."

  Alex nodded. "Then fix it. Simple. Go in tomorrow and let her know that you approached the situation like a complete knobhead. Say you're sorry and you can't wait to work together."

  "Except, I don't want to work with her."

  He laughed. "Oh God, this is going to be fun watching you."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Your brother's ex that you have a thing for is now your workmate, and you are trying to pretend you hate her. How do you think that's going to go?"

  I scowled. "It's going to go fine. Everything will be fucking fine."

  He nodded. "Yeah, if you say so. Do me a favor. Don't say I didn't warn you."

  "I don't need to be warned. I know my shit completely."

  They both laughed at that, and Liam said, "Yeah, okay. I'll believe it when I see it."

  Rian

  My heart pounded as I ran through the crowd. I could see the shadow behind me, following me. The familiar shape. He was coming for me. He would never stop, ever. I was going to be stuck in the prison of my own fear. Never free.

  There I was, rooted. In a crowd, but feeling completely isolated. Because he had his sights on me. And when we locked eyes, I had no choice but to run. But it was too late. He was chasing me, running after me, coming for me.

  And all because he knew. He knew that I hadn't loved him. And he was going to make me pay.

  All I could do was run, force my body into action and run away, be safe and stay hidden. Except, there was no safety. There was no staying hidden. Max Wexler had found me.

  Except, as I banged on the doors of the storefronts I passed, no one would let me in. All the windows were darkened, closed for the day. Except for one that was illuminated up ahead.

  It was open and brightly lit and if I could just get to it, I’d be safe. When I reached the window I peered inside, and I could see my father. All I had to do was reach him. I knocked on the glass, begging him, “Daddy, please see me, please look up and see me. Daddy, please, please, please, please, please. But no. He didn't look up. He kept eating.

  And then Max was there behind me. "Did you think you could run?"

  I screamed. I kept screaming. And finally my father looked up, meeting my gaze. But instead of coming to my rescue, instead of opening his arms, getting up, coming to hug me, to hold me, to tell me I was going to be okay, he scowled at me. His eyes full of contempt, hatred. And he went right back to his meal.

  "Please, God. Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, please. Please help me."

  He looked up and picked up his phone. He was calling the police. Of course, he was calling the police. He had to be.

  Except, he wasn't.

  The men in white coats pulled up. They’d come for me with their injections and their pills. I tried to run, tried to fight them off. But Max was helping them, trying to shove me into their white van. And all the while my father stood by as they shoved me in a cage. His cold flat eyes condemning me even as I fought.

  I woke with a start, my heart racing, my breath dragging out in ragged pants. I tapped the injection site and clutched my body, checking that everything was where I expected it to be. “Fuck. Fuck.”

  You know this means you need to call Dr. McAllister. Your mind is playing tricks on you. It's time to call him. You gave up your meds.

  I knew what I should do. I should call the doctor and let him know that the anxiety was back. Get new meds, readjust, start over. Except I couldn't. Not after what DI Jones had said. A desperate, frantic part of my mind wanted to believe that I hadn’t been wrong.

  There was that part of me that still stubbornly believed that I was right. That the doctors and my father were the ones who were wrong.

  I knew that was the kind of negative thinking that wasn't going to help me. Dr. McAllister had told me a million times. But still, I couldn't let it go. There was a part of my brain that refused to accept that maybe, just maybe, my version of events wasn't accurate.

  But I knew what I saw. And even though I played the part, said the right words, I couldn't let it go. I refused to accept it. I'd learned to say the right things so that they didn't think I was crazy for real. But…

  God, they didn't know Max. I did. And I was sure I'd seen him.

  The question was, could I prove it? Did I want to? How had he found me?

  Or your father and Dr. McAllister were right.

  Instead of trying to parse out what fragments of my brain remained intact, I tucked my duvet back around me, shivering into the folds. It was just a dream. It was just a dream. There was no way Max Wexler was at the party tonight. I wasn't going to let myself get dragged back into that situation where no one believed me but I was certain I was right.

  No. It was a dream. It had to be.

  Six

  Rian

  It would be a lie if I said I wasn't nervous. I was. After all, what did she want with me?

  I found the café close to work and went up and ordered my tea then turned around looking for the Detective Inspector. I found the woman in the corner with the shoulder-length curly hair that stuck out in several different directions, haphazardly tied back in a ponytail. Although that ponytail wasn't really helping, because her hair was still making a break for it.

  She looked at her cup of coffee and gave me a nod. And then I marched over. "Detective Inspector Jones?"

  "Yes. Rian Beaumont, I presume?"

  I nodded and took a seat. "I'm not sure how I can help you."

  She shook my hand. "Well, I mostly want to get the lay of the land. I inherited your case files. Let's just say I've been chasing Max Wexler for quite some time.”

  "I'm sorry, but I don't know anything about him now. I haven't seen him since the night I
was arrested for something he did."

  She nodded solemnly. "I can understand that's very distressing for you. And I promise you, I don't want to take you back to that time. I honestly don't. But I do need you to think back. During the time you spent with Max, did he ever give any indication that he was violent? Were you ever afraid for your life?"

  I blinked. "What? No. I mean, he was never violent toward me. He was cruel, yes, and he could be vindictive, but psychologically, not physically. He never hit me or anything like that. The worst thing he did was boot me out of a car in the freezing rain. That much I remember. He had this way of being cold. He could just freeze you out, you know what I mean?"

  She nodded and took a couple of notes. She showed me a picture of a young woman. Pretty, dishwater-blond hair, big green eyes. She was smiling at something. "Do you know her?"

  I shook my head. "No. Should I?"

  "Her name's Corey Callahan. She was Max's girlfriend, before you turned up."

  My brows rose. "I never met her."

  "Right. Of course you didn't. Did he ever mention her?"

  I choked out a laugh. "No. Not once. Why?"

  "I suspect he killed her."

  I choked on my sip of tea. "What?"

  "Yeah, and then you had a very specific fate mapped out by him. You know, you're quite lucky that we found his stash house. Because the evidence against you, sitting outside of those stores in his car with him as he cased the places, walking in with him… God, you certainly were lucky, weren't you?"

  "There was no evidence against me. I didn't do anything wrong." I started to wonder if coming here had been a mistake. Obviously D.I. Jones had an ulterior motive. "What is this about?"

  "What it's about is you're back in town, and I'm still looking for Max Wexler. After he was released from jail on a technicality, he got smarter. More difficult to catch. And recently, in the last six months or so, I have reason to believe that he's up to his old crude tactics again with this girl.” She showed me a photo of a pretty mixed-race girl. She could have been my sister with slightly darker skin, and her hair was curlier than mine. "Is she dead too?"