07 It Had to Be You Read online

  “Friends don’t sneak out in the middle of the night,” she said, hating that they had an avid audience soaking up the exchange. “And I didn’t steal anything.” She recognized one of the cops. He’d been in the shop to buy flowers for his girlfriend. She spoke directly to him. “I’ve never stolen anything. Not once in my whole life.”

  Well, except she had. She winced. “Okay,” she said, “so maybe one time I took a lip gloss from the drugstore, but I was twelve and stupid and my mom made me take it back. I had to work there for free for a whole day to make up for it. I haven’t stolen anything since.”

  The second cop was rubbing his temple. Men did that a lot around her. Apparently she gave good headache.

  “You have to believe me,” she said. “I didn’t take any cash. How much is missing?”

  “All of it,” Teddy said tightly. He was wearing khakis and an untucked, white button-down shoved to his elbows. He looked like he’d walked right out of a GQ ad, but instead of feeling her heart sigh, it hardened. The dreamy quotient of Teddy Marshall had run out.

  “So you just showed up here to accuse Ali?” Luke asked him.

  Teddy stared at him. “Seriously, who the hell are you?”

  “Detective Lieutenant Luke Hanover.”

  “My landlord?”

  “Ex-landlord,” Luke said.

  Ali’s stomach was somewhere in the vicinity of her toes, so she couldn’t process the exchange of testosterone at the moment. “So what now?” she asked the first cop.

  “You come to the station for some questions, ma’am.”

  “Even though I didn’t do it?” she asked.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Ali,” she managed. “You keep saying ma’am, and I want to look over my shoulder to see who you’re talking to. Why can’t you just question me right here?”

  “That’s not policy, ma’—”

  At her glare, he wisely swallowed the “ma’am” part.

  “Look, Ali,” Teddy said, clearly attempting to soften his voice. Once upon a time that might have charmed her, but not today. “You’re pissed at me,” he said. “I get that. So just give us the money back, and we’ll all go to our separate corners. No harm, no foul.”

  “I don’t have the money; I didn’t take it!”

  When the two cops just looked at her, she let out a breath. “I didn’t.”

  “Go through her stuff,” Teddy said wearily. “There isn’t much. It shouldn’t take long.”

  Luke put a hand to Teddy’s chest, halting his forward progress. “No one’s searching her or the premises,” he said, still calm but with one-hundred-percent authority. “Not without consent or a warrant.”

  Ali turned and looked at him for the first time. He was in black board shorts, still damp enough to cling to his body. No shirt. Bare feet. A towel was slung over his shoulder, his hair wet and uncombed.

  He’d been in the water, she realized, swimming or maybe on the paddleboard she’d seen leaning against the back deck. She wasn’t sure if she was grateful for his intervention or pissed that he clearly thought she needed the protection from a search due to what they might find.

  “I didn’t do it,” she told Luke. “They can search.”

  “Good.” Teddy pushed his way in through the door. “Where’s the stuff you took out of Town Hall, Al?”

  “I brought the floral arrangements to the senior center yesterday,” she said. She pointed to her purse and the box of small ceramics on the foyer bench. “That’s all that’s left from the auction.”

  Teddy reached for the box, but the first cop stopped him. “It can’t be you, Marshall, sorry,” the cop said, and grabbed the box.

  Ali heard all her things clink together. “Careful—”

  She broke off when he pulled out the pine tree pencil pot.

  “What the hell?” Teddy said incredulously. “You gave that to me.” He turned to Ali, brows knit together. “You stole it out of my office?”

  “Took back,” she corrected. “I took it back because you didn’t deserve it.”

  “You stole it. Where’s the money, Ali?”

  “I didn’t take the money!”

  The first cop pulled something out of the pot.

  “Jesus,” Teddy said as they all stared at a bank bill wrapper, the kind that was used to hold together a stack of money, exactly like the bill wrappers that’d been used on the auction money.

  He whirled on her now, eyes furious. “Where’s the money?”

  “I…” At a loss, she shook her head. “I didn’t know that was in there.”

  The cops looked at each other, faces impenetrable, their entire demeanor shifting from fairly relaxed to on guard and far more alert.

  “Oh no,” Ali told them. “This isn’t what you think. That bill wrapper must have been in there when I took the pot.”

  “So you admit to taking the pot, ma’am?” the first cop asked.

  “Well, yes, but…” She trailed off at their expressions. Clearly, they thought she was full of shit. She didn’t dare turn to look at Luke to see if he felt the same. “I didn’t steal the money,” she said, suddenly feeling very small and very alone. “I didn’t.”

  Teddy blew out a breath and shoved his fingers through his hair. “What now?” he asked the two cops.

  “Do we still have your permission to search the premises?” one of them asked her.

  “You don’t need her permission,” Teddy said. “I shared this place with her. It’s half mine. I give you permission.”

  “Wrong,” Luke said with that same steely authority in his voice. “You no longer live here or have rights to the property.”

  Again, Ali didn’t know whether to be touched or upset. She went with upset. “Search,” she said. “Please. You’ll see…”

  They started with the living room and kitchen. Luke stood by, watchful. Impassive.

  Not Ali. Her thoughts raced. Why was Teddy was acting so sure that it’d been her? Had he set her up? And what was the motive for that? Did he think that would keep her quiet about what he’d been doing in his office that night? “Where was the money in the first place?” she asked.

  “In my locked bottom desk drawer,” Teddy said stiffly. “As you very well know.”

  “I don’t know,” she said, just as stiffly. But she’d gone through his desk looking for the pencil pot. Had there been a locked drawer? She didn’t think so. “You sure you locked it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Sure sure?”

  “Jesus! Yes!”

  But Ali knew that expression and defensive tone. He wasn’t sure. “You’re lying about being sure,” she said. “What else are you lying about, Teddy?”

  Both officers straightened and gave him a long, appraising look. He raised his hands. “Hey, I’m the wronged party here! I put the briefcase in the bottom drawer to keep it locked up until the bank opened so I could deposit it. Hell, it was all just for show to begin with. Most of the money that had been actually collected was in electronic form. But we wanted to display cash that night to make it look impressive and to encourage more donations. I had it in my bottom desk drawer. I just…”

  “What?” asked one of the cops.

  Teddy sighed. “Okay, so maybe I can’t remember if I locked the drawer. I was in a hurry.”

  “Doing what?” Ali asked, knowing damn well what—just not who.

  “It’s not pertinent,” Teddy said.

  The cop looked pained, and the look he gave Teddy said he didn’t appreciate being put in the position of having to push. “It’s pertinent. What did you do directly after putting the money in your bottom desk drawer?”

  Teddy opened his mouth, and then closed it. After a long pause, he sighed again. “Melissa Mann.”

  “What?” the cop asked.

  Teddy sighed. “I was doing Melissa Mann.”

  There was a beat of stunned silence.

  Melissa Mann was a local manicurist, fun and sweet and pretty. She worked at the Hair Today salon