Slightly Irregular (28 page)

“Profile?”

“Here,” I said, pulling up the page for Tiara64. “Lives in Palm Beach County. Damn,” I muttered as I looked at the other important detail.

“What?”

“She has no feedback.”

“Is that bad?”

“Yeah. It means the only thing she bought on eBay was the stuff she bought from me. See here where it says “Member since 2012?”

“Yes.”

“That means that until a few days ago, she didn’t exist on eBay.”

“Can someone find out who you are?”

I nodded. “If someone knew my area and did a little digging,
it would be pretty simple to back trace me through either my ISP or my screen name. If you know what you’re doing, the IP thing is more efficient. If you’re using my screen name, then you have to go through all the telephone directories for someone matching ‘F. A. Tanner.’”

“Can you do the back trace?”

“No. My skills don’t extend that far.”

“But an IT guy could do it, right?”

“Sure. But the only IT guys I know are the ones who work on the Dane-Lieberman computers. I’m not sure the firm would like me confiscating a computer expert for my own purposes.”

“I know a guy who could do it. He owes me because I did—”

“A
thing
. Got it. Is there anyone in Palm Beach County who doesn’t owe you a favor?”

“Possibly.” His expression grew more serious. “I think you should bring Tony in on this.”

“Why?”

“He’s got some pull at the sheriff’s office. He might be able to move the cops off their asses, and find out if they have any holdbacks.”

“What’s a holdback?”

“Something only the police know that they don’t release to the general public so that when they catch the person, they know it’s the right guy.”

“Do you think she’s in danger?” I asked.

“No, not until I have proof to the contrary. If this was just a thrill kill, we’d already have found Becky’s remains.”

I shivered. “Not if they threw them into the everglades.”

Liam wrapped me in the comfort of an embrace. “Think positive thoughts. We haven’t even reached the date when Becky told Victor she’d be back.”

“But that doesn’t explain her car or her purse.”

“Taking her phone and her keys is a good sign.”

Moving away, I stifled a yawn. “I’ve got a meeting first thing in the morning.”

“Kicking me out?”

“You bet.”

He moved closer to me on the sofa. He picked up several strands of my hair and tucked them behind my ear. “Sure you want me to leave?”

His breath was warm against my exposed neck. I could feel the heat pooling in my stomach, and it took all my efforts to move away from him and stand up. “I’m completely sure. What should I do with the tape?”

“Burn it.”

“Seriously?”

“Yep. They might have had more than one video setup, so you don’t want that thing lying around just in case the police come sniffing around.”

“Why would they sniff?”

“Because I’m assuming you didn’t wipe your prints off Becky’s purse or wallet. They may want to talk to you. We did break and enter, and you defaced private property when you shattered Becky’s window. Lemme take your computer with me.”

“Great. No computer and the possibility of being arrested.
Again
.” I grumbled.

Liam stood, drained the rest of his coffee, and headed for the door. “Good night, Finley. Remember to lock up.”

I did, but I realized that my motion-sensor lights hadn’t fired up when Liam left. Obviously, I had a blind spot. I really did need to call Harold.

I was tired, but too worried about Becky to go to sleep. I busied myself making notes regarding the letter to Wanda Jean and Sleepy. I shook my hand, trying to relieve the cramp caused by writing longhand. Life without a computer was almost as bad as life without Spanx. I could input the finishing touches on the letter first thing and e-mail it to Vain Dane. I only hoped he’d read it before Lenora arrived tomorrow at nine.

I was up early
. Again. Becky's absence weighed heavily on my mind. If she used the ATM on the island, then she must have needed cash. Like for lunch with Jane and Liv. So why didn't she show? Other than a voluntary walkaway, there was no answer except that the person known only as Tiara64 had done something to her. Only if that were true, then why would a kidnapper pay for the eBay items before abducting Becky? Nothing seemed to be gelling. Maybe Liam was right. Maybe she had just taken a break and was lying low in some hotel room living off room service. I had no way of knowing if all her credit cards were present and accounted for. Maybe having her car towed was the proverbial straw that broke her back. As much as I adore my friends, there have been times when I've wanted to just get away.

I promised myself that I wouldn’t fall apart. At least not until there was any reason to think Becky was
someplace
. Preferably safe.

I dressed in one of my favorite Lilly Pulitzer skirts and tops, then accessorized with the pearls my sister had given me as my maid-of-honor gift. The look was very Jackie O, especially when I paired it with my knockoff Chanel sunglasses I’d picked up on my last visit to New York.

I was so worried about Becky, and a tad worried about Ellen, that I actually missed the turn to my office and had to drive around the block just to get back to Clematis. As I was backtracking, I noticed the baseball-capped traffic enforcement chick I’d seen a couple of weeks ago. I only noticed her because I made a left turn on red and was afraid I’d get a ticket on the spot. I saw the blonde watching me. I was in my office by eight thirty, resenting the extra thirty minutes of course. I quickly typed and proofed the letter, then sent it to Vain Dane via e-mail attachment. I knew he was in the office because his Hummer H3 was in the parking lot. I also reminded him that Lenora Egghardt was due in at nine.

I didn’t want to be wasting time on the Egghardt thing. I wanted to be out there looking for Becky. Except I had no idea where to start. On a whim, I sent an e-mail to eBay asking for any information they may have on Tiara64. I erroneously claimed that she was the high bidder and had yet to pay me, so I wanted the home or business address listed on her profile. I knew it was a long shot, but hell—you don’t ask, you don’t get.

At ten before the hour, Vain Dane sent the letter back to me without a single correction. Of course, it didn’t mention any
praise or recognition, either. Just once I’d love to hear him say, “Good job, Finley.” But that was about as far-fetched as Lindsey Lohan getting off probation.

Lenora arrived right on time. I met her at the elevators and took her into Ellen’s conference room, except that I didn’t know if I should still call it that now that Ellen was gone. Just thinking about that caused a chill to creep up my spine. What if my suspicions were right and Becky’s disappearance was somehow linked to Ellen’s absence?

“Where’s the red-headed woman?” Lenora asked.

“I’m afraid Ms. Lieberman is no longer with the firm.”

“Did she go back to TV?”

I looked quizzically at Lenora. “Ellen was on TV?”

She nodded. “Long time ago. That’s where I recognized her from. Only I can’t place the show. Something to do with her looks maybe.”

Jeopardy
, probably. I didn’t really care about Ellen’s intellectual prowess, but I did want to get this over so I could talk to Tony. “Here’s the plan we’ve come up with….” I spent the better part of three hours explaining all the pluses and minuses for allowing the Bollans to stay on the land subject to a new location as described in the rental agreement.

“Do you think it’s a good idea?”

“Mr. Dane does, and he’s the senior partner here.”

Lenora was holding a locket and sliding it back and forth on its chain. “I want to know what you think, Ms. Tanner.”

“I’m not in a position to give you legal advice. But I’d be happy to get Mr. Dane down here to answer any questions or address any concerns you may have.”

She frowned. “Almost all of my dealings have been with you. I want to know what
you
think.”

God, I hoped this didn’t come back and bite me in the fanny. “I think it’s fair and equitable and that you should make the offer.”

“And if they say no?”

“It wouldn’t be in their best interests. The alternative is eviction from the property.”

Lenora dropped the locket. “Okay then, let’s do it this way.”

I went back to my office long enough to pick up the Egghardt estate file, and then headed over to the courthouse to get new Letters of Administration. With a half-dozen in hand, I walked back to the office, trying to hold my fears in check. What would I do if Becky had met with foul play because she was doing me a favor? I shivered even though I could see the heat wafting off the concrete.

As soon as I made the turn toward the Dane-Lieberman office, I noticed three sheriff’s cars parked in the lot.

My first thought was that they’d found Becky. I picked up my pace. I refused to think of the alternative. No, all I wanted was to hear that she was just fine and had some plausible reason for dropping off the radar for nearly a week.

A man and a woman, each dressed in a khaki uniform, were seated in the lobby. Margaret was behind her half-moon-shaped desk, a smug smile in her eyes. That was a good sign. Margaret wouldn’t be going all snark on me if she knew something horrible had happened to Becky.

“This is Ms. Tanner,” Margaret announced.

The male rose and swiftly took the file out of my hands and
my purse off my shoulders. As he was doing that, his female partner twisted my free arm up behind my back, nearly causing me to lose my balance.

“What the hell are you doing?” I half yelled, half winced.

“Finley Tanner, you are under arrest for breaking and entering. You have the right to remain silent.”

Handcuffs snapped tightly around my wrists.

“Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”

“Call Tony,” I said to Margaret. She looked so pleased I half expected her to whip out her cell phone to take pictures of me being handcuffed and led away.

“You are entitled to a lawyer. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be appointed to you. Do you understand these rights?”

“Margaret, please!”

“He’s at lunch, then meeting with a client. But I will tell him you’ve been taken into custody when he gets back into the office.”

Bitch.

Friends don’t Google other friends. Enemies are fair game.

Sadly, the holding area
of the Palm Beach County jail was not a new experience to me. It was, however, the first time I’d been there fully clothed. The last time I’d been taken in by the police, I’d been wearing my spending-the-night-alone jammies. Those consisted of a pair of boxers and a cami. They hadn’t even allowed me to find my shoes first. That had been one huge misunderstanding, but I learned a lot about the police mind-set.

Now I sat in the center of a long wooden bench with my wrists shackled to large iron circles and chains suspended from high up on the wall. I could smell tobacco, alcohol, and sweat, and the combo wasn’t pretty.

I’d already been photographed, fingerprinted, and interrogated. The interrogation had lasted only a few seconds since I invoked my right to counsel immediately. I’d learned that the hard way last time, when I willingly allowed myself to be interrogated and it blew up in my face. Now I was just waiting
for an arraignment in front of the judge. A large round clock guarded by a cage of metal clicked loudly. It was already four thirty; I was supposed to help Izzy with her hair and makeup,
and
I desperately wanted to know what had happened to my best friend.

“Tanning?” a large officer with a thick neck called.

“I’m Tann-
er
,” I said as I attempted to raise a hand, but instead just jerked painfully on my wrists.

The officer came over and freed me from the wall. Several of my bench mates took issue with what they called special treatment for me. I was escorted through two sets of locked doors, then brought to caged areas marked
PROPERTY CLERK
. That officer slid a large brown bag under the concave spot on the counter.