Page 33 of Caper Crush
It’s still weird to me that we’re getting along like old friends. I’ve definitely misjudged him.
“I looked up the floorplan of the house on Airbnb,” William says. His slender, competent hands are capably holding the steering wheel. That’s how I first fell for Rex. I was watching his hands strum the guitar and change chords.
“Smart thinking,” I say. “So how many rooms to check out? Do you want to say you have to go to the bathroom and check out those rooms while I keep him occupied?”
“There are two bedrooms, each with a closet, and an office, so it shouldn’t take too long. But guys don’t usually take a long time in the bathroom. Are you sure I should be the one to check?”
“How are you going to keep him occupied? It’s better if it’s me. I can show him my art portfolio and ask him if he can find me another art show while you go to the bathroom and check out the house. Hopefully, he’ll be flattered enough to try to think of options. My art portfolio should take some time. How can I probe his financial situation, though?”
“He must be panicking now if he was really relying on that painting’s sales commission. He’s another victim if that’s the case. It’s suspicious he was so blasé when he heard,” he says. “Could he also know what happens when art is stolen?”
“I’ll ask. You should grab a magazine when you excuse yourself to use the restroom and imply it’s going to be a long time.”
William winces. I laugh.
“Have you talked to Vinnie before?” he asks.
“I interned for him one summer during college. Uncle Tony got me a job there. He’s got a pretty cushy life. He spent most of the summer in Europe or here,” I say. “He had some wandering hands, but I put a stop to that.”
“He hit on you even though he knew your uncle?”
“He thinks of himself as a catch. And he’s not unattractive—especially ten years ago when he was in his mid-forties. He’s got that artsy, long, wavy hair. He’s fit. Maybe he was a catch for other thirty- and forty-year-old women. He certainly dated a lot. I took a lot of messages from women.”
“How’d you tell him he wasn’t?”
“I told him if he put his hands on my butt again, I’d bend his finger backward,” I say. “That may be why he spent so much time away that summer.”
“Could that give him a motive? That he’s still pissed off that you rejected him?”
“That would be a bit much,” I say. “I mean, I don’t think he likes me much because of that, but it seems extreme to sabotage my career and risk going to jail.”
“Was he knowledgeable about art?”
“Very.”
“You can ask him about trends if you need more topics.”
“Good idea. I’ll ask about that too,” I say. We’re both quiet for a few minutes. “So accounting?”
“Is that a question?” he asks.
“What made you decide to become an accountant?”
“I like numbers, and I wanted to have my own business. I wanted that freedom. And whether times are good or bad, people always need accountants.”
I can identify with wanting my own business and freedom. “You’re making accounting seem sexier than I realized.”
“What did I say that sounded sexy?” William asks, perplexed.
“Your own business and independence.”
“And here I thought it was the reference to numbers.”
“Well, I’m open to hearing you make numbers sexy.”
He laughs. “I’ll think about it.”
“What can we ask Vinnie as the most likely suspect?”
