Chapter 18
FBI Log: Day Two
I’m beginning to get used to the house. Lots of places to hide things. Landline extensions in every room. Someone (probably Ben) disabled the callback and caller ID functions.
There’s a laptop in the kitchen that seems to be Amber’s. I’ve checked her browsing history. It’s all recipes, baby care, and upscale fashion sites—Saks Fifth Avenue, Bergdorf Goodman, Prada, Chanel. Many emails from Amber to friends.
Ben never seems to use that computer. He has a desktop in his office. Started breaking in today but got called away to diaper duty. Ben’s daughter Hailey also has a laptop.
Amber seems innocent. Hailey is a spoiled brat. The baby is a sweetheart. But that’s not what you want to know.
Hard to overhear conversations. Ben takes all his calls in his office with the door closed, always on his cell. He’s never without it. Carries it with him practically 24/7, even in a bathrobe pocket.
And Ben’s car is spotless: no papers, no paper trail. His daughter says he’s a neat freak. Maybe he’s just paranoid.
Nothing to report except that Amber acts like she really needs me, trusts me, appreciates me.
Glad somebody does.