Twelve
Xin
It took the cops a full day to find me, probably because they had to contend with things like warrants and such for the laundromat CCTV and the fingerprint I'd left.
When Detective Warner showed up at my door, I went with them willingly.
I even let them search my apartment without a warrant, not that they found anything.
I'd hidden my laptop and all my hacking-related paraphernalia in the demon realm, and my phone would only show them what I wanted them to see no matter how they hacked into it.
Detective Aisha joined us in the interrogation room, which was smaller and more cage-like than the interview room they'd used with Gabriel. They also had a camera running, and the detectives read off their details and the day and time before turning to me.
"So, Ben, where were you Friday night?"
I pursed my lips, then shrugged. "I don't remember."
Detective Warner raised a brow at me, then placed a few photos in front of me. Once from inside Patrick's house, another from the laundromat, and one outside the house with the van, logo clearly visible.
I made my face go pale and sweat coat my brow, and licked my lips for effect, my fingers twitching on the table.
"Did that jog your memory?"
I stayed quiet, and the detective leaned forward, his index finger poking at the picture of the van. "We found your fingerprint on the van, and here you are stealing it just hours before the theft. Tell us where the things you stole are, and maybe we can work out a deal."
I blinked, then weighed—or pretended to—my options. Sighing loudly, I glanced up at them.
"I want a lawyer."
Detective Warner narrowed his eyes, but I kept talking. "I don't have the stuff, but I know where it is. Get me my lawyer and I might tell you."
The detective grunted, but then they both left the room.
I was allowed my one phone call, and I quickly called Lazlo, who appeared a bit too quickly by human standards.
His human form was big and beefy, and the suit he wore was perfectly designed to show off every single bulge of his muscles.
At 6?7?, he towered over most humans, including Detective Warner, who eyed him suspiciously as he strolled past him into the interrogation room and took the chair next to me.
"You okay, Ben?" he asked, his blue eyes twinkling with mirth, probably at the fake name I'd given myself. Or maybe it was the short-haired look I was sporting for this mission. None of the other demons had seen this guise of mine, but I had a feeling they'd hear all about it.
I nodded, then turned to the detective, who had started exuding an air of impatience. He rushed Lazlo through his introduction, then turned back to me. Detective Aisha didn't return, and I wondered if that was intentional on his part.
"You have your lawyer. Now tell me where you stashed everything," Detective Warner ordered, and I glanced over at Lazlo.
"Let's talk about a deal first," Lazlo said, and the detective scoffed.
"Your client stole artwork worth millions of dollars. If we recover everything, there's a slight possibility of a reduced sentence, but you will be going to prison," he said, the last part directed at me.
"What if I told you I was paid to rob that house?"
Detective Warner blinked, and while he tried, he couldn't quite hide his surprise.
"How do I know you're not just spinning tales to save your skin?"
"I have proof."
"How about this? If the art is recovered safely, and if my client can show proof that he was hired to commit this robbery, you drop the charges on him."
"I'll even pay back the 10k I was paid," I added, playing up the remorse. Even if I was convicted, I could easily disappear whenever I wanted, but I'd rather not do that.
Detective Warner was silent for a long moment, and if Aisha was here, she may have prompted him to agree, but she hadn't joined us this time around. I glanced over at Lazlo, and he winked at me before waving his fingers under the table.
The detective blinked, then nodded once. "I'll talk to the DA's office. Sit tight."
And then he was gone. Lazlo waved his hand, probably to make sure whatever he said wasn't recorded or heard by a human. I felt the illusion fall into place, and then he grinned.
"What the heck are you up to anyway? Art theft? I thought your thing was hacking."
It was a testament to how good of a friend he was that he'd played along with zero knowledge of what I'd gotten myself into. While Lazlo was closest to Kenji, he and I were pretty good friends too. It seemed right for him to be the first person I told about Gabriel.
I caught him up on everything that had happened since I walked into that abandoned building and saw Gabriel, and when I finished, Lazlo clapped my shoulder.
"Everything makes sense now. So our goal is to get this Patrick guy thrown in prison for the rest of his life, huh?"
I nodded, and Lazlo rubbed his palms together, the sleeves of his suit straining at the upper arms. He usually wore loose t-shirts and jeans, so I hadn't realized just how built his human form was. It was so very different from his true form, but maybe that was why he liked it.
"Okay then, let's do this."
When Detective Warner walked into the room ten minutes later, one look at him told me we were on. The deal had been approved, and now it was time for me to weave the net that would trap Patrick like the slimy little fish he was.
Once the paperwork had been signed—after Lazlo used his newly gained law expertise to make sure there were no tricks involved—Detective Warner sat back in his chair, his notebook open to a blank page.
"Now, tell me everything."
With pleasure, I thought as I tried not to smile, and then told him everything. Or at least, the version that mattered.
Gabriel
In her last text, Aisha had told me Ben Hall had been brought in for questioning, and it took me a moment to realize that was the fake name Xin had used. Aisha had been a part of the earlier interview, but after Xin called for a lawyer, Detective Warner had proceeded on his own.
She hadn't texted me again, and I was starting to worry, though I couldn't show it on my face because I was at work.
Patrick was back today, though he was in a mood, which meant I was already struggling not to punch him in the face.
With the worry about Xin thrown into the mix, I could feel myself slipping, and I couldn't afford to be careless now. I was too close to everything I'd wanted to mess up.
Leaving my desk, I went to the men's room and splashed some water on my face, keeping my head lowered as I breathed so the water wouldn't drip onto my shirt.
Xin would be okay. They were good at what they did, and our plan was flawless.
Once I could breathe a little easier, I wiped my face, then went back to my desk.
"López! Get me a coffee!" Patrick shouted just as I sat down, and I got back up.
"Yes, sir," I said, then headed for the elevator because Patrick was too good for the 'swill' they served in the breakroom, and needed his very pompously specific order from the café across the street. Asshole.
I spent the whole trip down and back cursing Patrick out in my head, and it honestly made me feel calmer by the time I got back with his coffee.
Depositing it on his desk, I returned to mine as my phone buzzed. It was the secure phone Xin had given me, and I quickly checked it, finding a text from Aisha.
Aisha: They made a deal. Ben showed them the conversation with the guy who paid him to rob the house, the address of the storage unit, and the spot where he picked up the money.
I hadn't introduced Aisha and Xin to each other, but maybe once this was over, I could. I would like for them to get along. They were the two most important people in my life.
My thumbs froze on the keypad mid-reply as I caught up to my thoughts. When had that happened? When had Xin become so important to me?
After thanking Aisha for keeping me updated, I forced myself to focus on work and pushed all thoughts of Xin out of my mind.
The cops might recover the artwork today, but they might need different warrants to get access to the doctored CCTV footage that showed Patrick visiting the place, or the one from the place where he dropped money off for Xin. Would Xin spend the night in a jail cell?
At least they'd managed to make a deal. I couldn't have handled it if they ended up in prison because they'd helped me.
The rest of the day passed by in a blur of worry and holding my temper in check when Patrick kept barking orders at me.
When I got home, I spent a solid thirty minutes on the floor with Gray, just soaking in his warmth as I tried to breathe through the nerves and let go of my anger and frustration. If everything went well, I'd be free of Patrick soon, and I couldn't wait for the day.
What would I do once I was free? I had no idea, but I knew Xin would play a part in whatever my future held. At least, I hoped they would.
My phone buzzed as I was getting to my feet, and I quickly pulled it out of my pocket. My brows furrowed. I had a text from an unknown number. Who would be texting me here? Only Xin, Aisha, and Renée had this number. Curious, I clicked it open, then released a whoosh of air as I read the text.
Unknown: Hey, it's Xin. Just wanted to let you know the plan's going perfectly. The cops found the art and are now looking at the security tape and trying to find out the owner of the shell corp.
Me: That's good, but are you okay? Are they keeping you overnight?
Unknown: Yeah, they are. Lazlo, my lawyer friend, left me his phone, so you can text me here if there are any issues. And I'm okay. This place isn't all that bad, and I have a cell to myself.
It still sucked, but at least they were safe.
Unknown: How was your day? I can't imagine Patrick was pleasant to be around.
I snorted, then gave them a rundown of my day. Somehow, we ended up chatting for a few hours, and it was only when my stomach growled insistently for the umpteenth time that I realized how late it was.
Between texts, I stuck a frozen pizza into the microwave, then ate it standing at the counter while Gray watched me with judgy eyes.
When we finally stopped chatting, it was past midnight, and I felt like Xin and I had always known each other.
Or, at the very least, that we'd always meant to meet each other.
It wasn't anything specific we talked about, but just the fact that I'd spent a few hours talking to them and yet I wished we could keep talking.
I'd never felt that way about anyone in my life.
My only experience in romance came from a few teen relationships that never lasted more than a few weeks.
After Kevin was arrested, I didn't have time for such things.
When I desperately needed some company, I'd find someone to hookup with at a college party or bar, a one-night stand who would be forgotten the moment the sun rose.
I'd never wanted to just sit and talk with someone, and it was a novel feeling. It made me feel warm and full in a way nothing had before, and I wondered if the prequel felt so good, what would an actual date with Xin feel like?
If all went well, I'd soon find out.