Chapter 26 #3
“No, it’s not,” Vero said, her argument picking up steam as if all her points were falling into place.
“Because Ben didn’t want to put the money in the bank.
He wanted to keep it at his house. And if you had left the party with Theo, and if Jackson had gone out to meet up with him after … who was in the house with Ben?”
Mia blinked, her eyes growing wide as Vero’s meaning sank in.
“You said no one could say for sure where I was after the party. But it sounds like no one could say for sure where Ben was either. He had a motive, the means, and an opportunity to take that money. He had your wallet, Mia—which meant he had access to a master key! He wouldn’t have needed you to get into the building, or even into my room.
And he probably didn’t want you to tell anyone that you two had a fight and you left the party with Theo because now that Theo’s gone missing, that would also give Ben a motive for his murder. ”
Mia recoiled. “What do you mean, Theo’s murder? Theo’s not dead. What are you talking about?”
Vero winced as she realized her mistake.
Mia paled. I could see the wheels turning as if she were playing back a recording in her mind, searching the footage for the last time she’d seen him.
I could see the exact moment she realized how much time had passed.
When she finally spoke, her voice was so low, I couldn’t be sure if she was talking to us or to herself.
“Theo was supposed to be at our engagement luncheon on Sunday. When I asked Ben why Theo didn’t come, he said something must have come up. ”
Mia shot to her feet. She knocked Vero backward into the bathtub and shoved me out of her way as she scrambled to unlock the door.
My head hit the wall with a painful thwack.
I shook off stars, pulling myself upright and chasing her into the hall, but she was already disappearing through the crowd.
Judging by how fast she was moving, I didn’t think she planned to stay at the party any longer.
Vero clambered out of the bathtub and was suddenly right behind me. “Hurry! We can’t let her get to her car!”
We shoved our way through the living room, finally bursting free of the house.
“There!” Vero said, pointing at a slender dark-haired woman silhouetted by the pool lights. Vero tore off after her, her ankle monitor flashing as her legs pumped. “Oh no, you don’t!” Vero cried. “We’re not finished!”
Mia turned just as Vero’s feet left the ground.
Vero’s arms reached out wide, the full force of her tackle throwing the shocked woman backward into the swimming pool.
They hit the water, toppling votives, arms and legs thrashing wildly.
People began circling the pool to watch, a few frat brothers cheering as Vero and Mia wrestled and splashed.
Vero had one arm around Mia’s neck, both of them kicking furiously to keep their heads above the water.
“Oh god,” I said when the woman’s face broke the surface. “Vero, it’s not Mia!”
Vero stopped moving, and her feral face went suddenly slack. She released her grip. The stunned woman coughed and sputtered as she kicked her way to the edge of the pool.
I reached for her hand, hauling her over the concrete lip.
Her hair was plastered to her forehead, and water poured from her clothes.
She choked out a mouthful of pool water as I smacked her back and apologized profusely for Vero’s mistake.
Her friends raced over to collect her. The girl’s shoes squelched as they ushered her into the house.
Vero grabbed onto the lip of the pool, her huge sweater and the transmitter belt catching on the concrete as she tried to pull herself out of the water. I grabbed her under the armpits, leveraging all my weight until she was sprawled on the pool deck, blinking up at the sky.
“Do you see her?” she asked.
I bent over my knees to catch my breath. “Nope. Come on,” I said, offering her a hand. “Let’s get you dried off.”
I pulled Vero to her feet, and we walked back into the house.
Vero’s drenched jeans stuck like paste to her body, and the crowds parted easily for us, everyone taking generous steps back to avoid getting dripped on as Vero waddled toward the bathroom.
She glared at the person at the front of the line until they backed away from the door, gesturing for us to go first.
We locked ourselves in the bathroom. Vero dragged Mitch’s phone out of her back pocket. She shook off the water and frowned at the screen. When it didn’t come on, she pitched it into the trash can. I grabbed an armful of towels from the closet, shook one out, and spread it over her shoulders.
“That could have gone better,” she said, wringing out her hair.
“It wasn’t for nothing. I think you’re onto something with your theory about Ben.”
“Did you see how Mia reacted? She looked like she had no idea. I can understand Ben not telling anyone he committed a murder. But wouldn’t he at least have told her if he took the money?”
“She said Ben had accused her of not trusting his friends. Maybe he didn’t think Mia would react well if he told her he gave the money to Theo for safekeeping.”
“But if he trusted Theo, why give him the money and then turn around and kill him?”
“Greed?” I offered. “Maybe they had an argument over what to do with it?”
“Maybe. But how are we going to prove any of it? Mia’s probably calling Ben right now. Once he knows we’re onto him, he’s going to cover his tracks.”
“Or come after us.” I got a chill remembering what Ben had said when we’d cornered him in his office. My job is to make problems disappear.
Is that what Theo had become—a problem?
“Either way, we shouldn’t stick around. Let’s go find Cam and Zoey and get out of here.” I stepped into the hall. The house was in a frenzy. The music had abruptly cut off, and everyone was shouting at one another as they stumbled out of bedrooms and flocked to the windows.
Who called the cops?
We weren’t being that loud!
Shit, somebody hide the bong.
Vero and I backed into the bathroom and slammed the door. She hiked up her dripping pant leg. A red light flickered faintly on her ankle monitor. It made a staticky noise before it finally sputtered out.
A familiar voice boomed outside.
“I’m looking for Veronica Ramirez,” Officer Oates called into the house.
I locked the bathroom door. “Quick, take your belt off!”
Vero pulled up her wet sweater and tore the transmitter belt from her waist. She looked frantically around her for somewhere to stash it. “What am I supposed to do with it?” she cried.
“Throw it out the window!” If Officer Oates was looking for Vero inside the house, then putting the transmitter outside the house seemed like our only move.
Vero shoved open the window and dropped the belt behind the bushes.
She slammed the window shut, locked it, and straightened the blind.
I fired off a quick text to Cam, letting him know where it was and asking him to sneak it out of there before anyone managed to spot it.
We started at a loud rap on the bathroom door.
“Veronica Ramirez? This is Officer Oates. I know you’re in there. You can come out on your own, or I can come in there and get you. What’s it going to be?”
“Wait!” I whispered, holding the door shut. “What are you going to tell her?”
“Nothing.” Vero reached around me, opened the door, and faced off with Officer Oates. “I’m not saying another word without my stupid attorney.”