Chapter Thirty-three
Allen gripped his desk as the line rang and the automated voice mail played. When it finished and he heard the beep, the signal to leave a message, he seethed. “I’m paying you good money. Very good money. And you don’t answer your phone when I need to talk to you? Well, that had better change if you know what’s good for you, Tito. You hear me?” He slammed the receiver down and leaned back in his office chair, still fuming.
How could Tito not answer his damn phone? He needed to talk to him. Jesus, he was beginning to think he’d made a mistake in hiring him. He was beginning to think the big man was as incompetent as Tom. The little runt bastard. It was his fault he was in this mess. He was the one who’d lost Natalie to begin with.
Goddammit. Why did he hire anyone?
Because I don’t have the time to do it myself.
He couldn’t go searching for Natalie and run a business. It was impossible. Someone had to keep an eye on the employees and the transactions. Otherwise, there would be no money. And money…well, that was the most important thing. Finding Natalie being a close second.
He lifted the receiver again to call his secretary, but the line beeped before he could.
“Mr. Beaufort?” his secretary said as she came on over the speaker.
“What?”
“There are two detectives here to see you.”
Allen rubbed his forehead and sighed. The day was just getting better and better.
“Very well.”
The secretary disconnected and a knock came from his door.
“In!”
The two detectives he’d met before walked into his office, looking very no-nonsense in their cheap suits. Christ, where did they get those horrible things?
“Mr. Beaufort. Nice to see you again.”
“Make it fast, gentlemen. I have a tight schedule to keep.”
The detectives sat in the chairs across from his desk. “Well, now is that any way to greet us? You’d think your first question would be in regard to Natalie and whether or not we had any news. And yet…it wasn’t.” He raised an eyebrow and Allen glanced away, wanting to pummel the asshole. Detective Hallorin. Yes, that was his name. Motherfucker.
When Allen said nothing, Hallorin continued. “In case you’re interested, we haven’t located her yet. But we’ve got some good leads to follow up on. One of them being you, Mr. Beaufort.”
“Me?” He knew he looked disgusted. He felt it.
“Yes, sir. You’re the one.” He flipped open his notebook and searched the inside pocket of his suit for a pen. He found it and clicked it, ready to write.
“I can assure you that I had nothing to do with her disappearance,” Allen said, trying not to talk through clenched teeth.
“Well, I’m beginning to think otherwise, Mr. Beaufort. Especially in talking to those who know Natalie best. Seems you have been in contact with her, because you’ve been harassing her. Is that correct?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“No? See, that surprises me because her roommate, tells us that you’ve been having her followed.”
Allen scoffed. “This is a waste of time,” he said. “I’ve already told you—”
“Have you been having her tailed, Allen? And—” He checked his notes. “Harassing and threatening her? Despite the restraining order?”
“No.”
Hallorin shifted, cleared his throat, and looked to his partner, Marks, who stood, with his phone outstretched. He showed Allen the pic on the screen, and Allen nearly cringed.
“Is that you in the photo, Mr. Beaufort?”
“It’s hard to say. It’s grainy.”
Hallorin smiled. “It was taken from a doorbell cam from one of Natalie’s neighbors. Seems you were there the day Gayle and her boyfriend claimed you were. And more than a few times before that, lurking. One time even forcing your way into the apartment. Care to fill me in on that?”
Allen didn’t speak.
“Are you still unsure? Because we have more photos. A handful in fact, from all the different dates.”
“What do you want?” Allen asked.
“The truth, Mr. Beaufort. If you can manage it.”
Allen met his steely gaze. “Look, I may have gone to see Natalie, but I only wanted to talk to her, to beg her to come home.”
“So, you forced your way in?”
“She wouldn’t listen, I was desperate for her to just listen.”
“And that’s why you’ve gotten rid of her, isn’t it, Mr. Beaufort?”
“No. I didn’t. I—love her. She’s my wife. I only want her to come home.”
“And yet you have overnight guests at your house. Doesn’t sound like you’re missing her too much to me.”
Allen narrowed his eyes. “I may have had some fun. But that’s to be expected when your wife leaves you and you haven’t had sex in months.”
“Fun, you say?”
“That’s all it was.”
“Well, Mr. Beaufort, I also have a problem with that claim as well. You see, we waited outside your home when we last paid you a visit and we questioned your overnight guests. They paint a very different picture.”
“Oh?”
“It seems that your idea of fun is a little different from theirs. Your idea of fun seems to be a little rougher than what they were expecting.”
“I like a little bondage. So what?”
“You’re a sadist, Mr. Beaufort, that goes well beyond what you refer to as a little bondage.”
“I didn’t do anything illegal. Those girls, they complied.”
“Because you paid them. Handsomely. Which in and of itself is illegal.”
“Oh, come on. Are you really here to bust my balls over some overly sensitive hookers?”
The detectives exchanged a glance. “No, we’re here to find Natalie. And we believe you know where she is.”
“Like I already told you, I don’t.”
“Then you wouldn’t mind if we search your home and office?”
Allen clenched his fists, trying very hard to control his temper. “What for?”
“To search for clues, of course.”
“You’ll need a warrant.”
Marks held up some folded papers. “We have one.”
Allen stood. “You’ve got no right.”
“Actually, we do.”
“You won’t find anything.” He stood, so angry he could punch right through the wall. He was right though, they wouldn’t find anything. At least he hoped he was right. He was usually very careful about his business dealings, as well as his personal dealings. He had to admit he’d gotten a little sloppy with the hookers, but they were just that, hookers. No one would take their word over his.
Allen stalked toward the door.
“Where are you going, Mr. Beaufort?”
“I’m seeing you out.” He yanked open the door and waited. The detectives slowly stood and walked toward him. Marks handed him the warrant.
“We’ll start here, at the office, while another team searches your home.”
“Where am I supposed to go?”
“I’m sure you’ll find someplace, Mr. Beaufort. A man of your means.”
Allen fished his car keys out of his pants pocket and walked out of the office. He didn’t bother to stop when his secretary asked him what was going on. He just kept walking, making his way to the elevator, wondering what in the hell he was going to do next.