Eleven
Gabriel
Patrick's flight had landed an hour ago. I'd sent his driver to pick him up, and now I was trying to focus on my work while I waited to hear from him. He'd probably call the cops first.
My secure phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out, keeping it under my desk as I opened Xin's message.
It was a video. Keeping the volume down, I hit play, realizing it was from Patrick's home CCTV.
The timestamp was from minutes ago, and I watched as Patrick and his wife walked into the house.
Patrick stopped short, his eyes widening as he hurried deeper into the house, turning this way and that as he glanced from the bare walls to the stands with nothing on top.
It was the best thing I'd seen all week.
Before I could reply to Xin, my work phone started ringing, and I took a breath to center myself before answering.
"Good morning, sir. I hope you had a good trip."
"I was robbed!" Patrick exclaimed without any preamble, and I tried not to laugh.
"What?" I injected confusion into my voice, as if his words made no sense to me.
"Someone broke into my house and robbed me blind. Get here now! Bring the insurance details for my art."
"Yes, sir. I'll be there in twenty."
"Make it ten," he growled, then ended the call. I sat back in my chair and breathed in deeply. It was starting. I was so damned close I could almost feel it.
Sticking the phones into my coat pockets, I grabbed my iPad and made my way outside, eager to get to Patrick's and watch his panic in real time. By now, I was an expert at hiding my emotions around people—especially Patrick—but I knew it would still be a struggle to keep my glee hidden.
Twenty minutes later, I arrived at Patrick's home. Two police cars and two black SUVs filled his driveaway, and I parked behind them before hurrying up to the house.
An officer stopped me at the door, and only after she got the okay from inside did she let me pass. I walked through the large foyer, passing the crime-scene techs dusting various surfaces for prints, and into the living room, where Patrick sat with his wife Sarah, a foot of space between them.
Across from them sat a detective I didn't know, and Aisha.
They both glanced up when they saw me, and Aisha pretended not to know me.
We'd figured that would be the best course of action, since I'd already done my best to hide my connection to Kevin.
I looked a lot different than I had at eighteen, so she wouldn't be blamed for not recognizing me even if it came out.
"Finally. What took you so long?" Patrick demanded. Fuck, I couldn't wait to see him behind bars.
"Sorry, sir. There was some traffic."
Patrick grunted, then waved toward the detectives. "My assistant will get you all the insurance details, as well as anything else you need to know. I know the stats when it comes to me getting my art back, so just make sure the insurance people don't fuck me over."
The detective with Aisha, an African American man with salt-and-pepper hair and a stern face, narrowed his eyes, and I bit back a smile. Patrick was making my work so much easier for me.
"That is not our job, Mr. Lewis. The insurance company will receive our report, but beyond that, it's their prerogative if they want to investigate further or approve your claim," he said in a deep voice before turning to me.
"I'm Detective Warner, and this is Detective Sethi. You're Mr. Lewis's assistant?"
"Yes. My name's Gabriel López," I said, and the detective nodded. I guessed he was from the art unit, and I wondered what excuse Aisha had used to tag along, since her department was financial crimes.
"We would like to ask you some questions. Could you come by the station later?" Detective Warner asked, and I nodded quickly. It wasn't like I had anything to hide.
The detectives didn't linger long, probably because Patrick was being an arrogant dick as usual. Amelia seemed to not give a single fuck about the theft or him. She'd been focused on her phone the entire time.
Once the detectives had left, Patrick gave me a list of things to do—even though he'd clearly heard the cops ask me to drop by the station—then asked me to cancel his meetings for the day before sending me away.
The officers were still there when I left, probably waiting for the techs to finish their work. I doubted they would find anything. Renée was an expert, and I was confident she hadn't left a single trace that could lead back to her.
Xin had, though. Even if Detective Warner missed it, I'd texted Aisha what to look for, so she'd be sure to spot the sticker on the van Xin and Renée had used. From there, the clues would lead them straight to Xin.
Going back to the office, I canceled Patrick's appointments, told a few key people about the theft so the news would be buzzing all over the office by the end of the day, then made my way to the police station.
I found myself in an interview room with Aisha and Detective Warner, and I could tell that Detective Warner suspected I was involved in some way. I wasn't worried, though. We'd been careful, and there was nothing linking me to the crime.
"Thank you for coming, Mr. López. How long have you worked for Patrick Lewis?"
"Call me Gabriel, please. And it's been just a little over two years."
Detective Warner nodded and made a note in his little cop notebook. I'd always thought that was a TV cliché, but apparently not.
"So, Gabriel, you seemed very familiar with Mr. Lewis's house. Do you visit often?"
I shrugged. "I've been there quite a few times. Mr. Lewis likes to work from home sometimes."
"And you have your own code for the alarm system?"
I nodded, and Detective Warner leaned forward. "Would you be surprised to know that your alarm code was used to enter the house on the night of the theft?"
My eyes widened in shock because yes, I was surprised. What the fuck? Xin had told me they'd hacked into the CCTV to find out Patrick's code, and I'd assumed that's what they used.
"Hmm... you look genuinely shocked," the detective murmured, and I blinked back to the present.
"I am, Detective," I said, leaning forward to match his energy. "I swear I had nothing to do with this. Just like I had nothing to do with the money."
Sensing her cue, Aisha—Detective Sethi—shifted in her chair, her eyes flashing to mine. "What money?"
Xin
I'd been watching the proceedings in my invisible form since the moment Patrick got home, and I'd followed the detectives when they'd left so I could keep tabs on the investigation. I was sure Aisha would tell Gabriel everything, but I still wanted to be there.
When Gabriel heard I'd used his code, I winced, wishing I could've told him. But if he'd known, he wouldn't have looked so genuinely surprised, no matter how good an actor he was. It was why I hadn't told him.
While I'd planned to use Patrick's code right up until the night of the theft, I'd realized that would be a mistake.
Patrick was smarter than that. If he had actually planned this theft, he would incriminate someone else, just like he had with Gabriel's brother.
It had made sense to use Gabriel's code.
"What money?" Aisha asked, and I smiled. I'd known Gabriel would find some way to squeeze that little tidbit in.
"Well," Gabriel hedged, chewing on his lower lip as if he was unsure.
"A few weeks ago, I accidentally closed this tab on my browser, and I saw an accounts ledger in my closed tabs that I didn't remember opening.
It was for the company I work at, and there were a few transactions that didn't make sense to me. "
"Is that unusual? I mean, you're an assistant. Maybe you just didn't understand what you were looking for."
"I'm a CFO's assistant," Gabriel said, sounding offended, and I grinned.
He was a good actor, I had to give him that.
"I know what account ledgers look like. Anyway, the issue was that the transactions were made under my name, but I hadn't made any of them.
Someone was using my computer when I wasn't there. "
"Did you tell your boss?" Aisha asked, and Gabriel shook his head. "Why not?"
"I was scared," Gabriel admitted in a low voice, his gaze flicking around as if afraid someone would overhear them.
"Why?" Aisha asked while Detective Warner watched Gabriel with a curious look on his face, as if he couldn't decide if Gabriel was being sincere.
"When I first started working there, I heard about one of Mr. Lewis's previous assistants. He was arrested for embezzling money from the company."
Detective Warner raised a brow at Aisha, who nodded.
"This was over nine years ago. What does that have to do with you?"
"Well, most of the people who told me about it said they thought that he was innocent. That he was framed."
"Framed? By who?" Aisha prodded, though Detective Warner looked like he doubted Gabriel's story.
Shifting behind him, I brushed my hand over his head, using a teensy bit of magic to change his mind. I couldn't radically change someone's mind without consequences—if I could, I would've just forced Patrick to confess—but I could gently nudge the detective to be more open.
"Well, I didn't say this. But they thought it could've been Mr. Lewis. They said the money was never found, and he insisted he was innocent till he died."
"He's dead?" Detective Warner asked, and Aisha nodded.
"Cancer. Kevin—that was his name—died after a year in prison. I was a rookie back then, but even I thought something was fishy. It was why I asked to be on the case. I remembered about the case when I heard about the theft, and I was curious. And a little suspicious."
"You think he stole from himself?" Detective Warner asked, though he didn't sound quite as disbelieving as he'd seemed before.
"He did seem pretty insistent about the insurance money," she reminded him, and he hummed.
Then he shook his head and turned to Gabriel. "Detective Sethi can look into the money issue if she wishes to, but my focus is the art theft. Your code was used, so you're either involved or someone is trying to frame you."
"My code is 1212. I doubt you'd need a codebreaker to break that one. They could've just guessed. I swear I had nothing to do with it."
Detective Warner didn't reply for a long moment. Then he sighed. "Either way, we might have more questions later, so don't leave town."
"Of course."
A knock at the door pulled everyone's attention, and an officer poked his head in. "Sir, we were looking through the CCTV footage, and we think we saw something. You should see this."
Detective Warner nodded, then gave Gabriel a stern look before leaving the room.
Aisha still didn't let on that she knew Gabriel, and neither did he. She asked him a few more questions about the transactions he'd seen, then let him go, repeating Detective Warner's warning to stay in town.
After sneaking a peek at the van and its logo emblazoned on a screen someone was showing Detective Warner, I followed Gabriel out of the station.
He got in his car and started driving. I watched him leave, then teleported back home and made myself corporeal just as my phone started buzzing, Gabriel's name flashing on the screen.
"Hey, I'm sorry I didn't tell you," I said as soon as I answered, and Gabriel was quiet for a moment.
"It's okay. I understand why," he said, and I sighed in relief. I'd been worried he'd be annoyed or angry with me, though I should've known better. When it came to the plan, Gabriel could take almost anything in order to make it succeed.
"I'm keeping an eye on the investigation. They found the van sticker, so I'm sure they'll find me soon."
"I'm still worried about you getting arrested."
"Don't be. I'll be just fine."
"I hope so."
His words made me smile, and I resisted the urge to hug my phone.
"I need to find myself a lawyer to play this right. I'll text you later. Your cop friend will keep you updated in the meantime, right?"
"Yeah. But I'd still prefer to hear from you. Be safe, okay?"
"Always," I answered, then ended the call and started scrolling through my phone.
Ajax, too by-the-book; Azazel, too hardheaded; Calux, too sweet... I needed someone who could convincingly play a lawyer in looks and knowledge, and also someone who was free. The mated demons were out of question, so someone single...
Making a decision, I hit dial, hoping he wasn't sleeping because that was Lazlo's favorite way to pass time.
"Yello," a sleepy voice answered, and I rolled my eyes.
"Hey, Lazlo. I need some help. How long will it take you to study criminal law?"
Lazlo hummed, then groaned. I imagined he'd just sat up in bed and stretched like a cat. "Give me an hour."
Chuckling, I ended the call, knowing he'd keep his word.
Now I just had to wait for the detectives to show up.