“I did. Not anymore.”
More flares shot off in my head next to a red-flag confetti cannon. “You think he’ll fire you because you didn’t sleep with him?”
“Trust me, I would’ve slept with him. He’s the one who clearly changed his mind if he called you.” She scoffed. “I’ve seen security kick other girls out. I guess I should be flattered he felt I was worth the extra effort of a cop escort.”
“He didn’t call us,” I corrected. “A woman in distress did, saying she was being held hostage in the back.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. I’m not in distress.” She paused before gesturing out. “Well, I wasn’t before all this.”
“And you weren’t being forced to stay back here?”
“No. I got a text from Rhys saying to strip, zip-tie myself to the filing cabinet, and wait.” She stood suddenly, and I stiffened, but she just went to get her discarded apron. Crumpled bills fell from the pocket as she fished her phone out, but she didn’t seem to notice. She tapped the screen a few times before handing it to me. “See?”
The text said exactly as she claimed. No more, no less.
I jotted down the number that wasn’t saved in her contacts. “And you didn’t find this odd?”
“I mean… Kind of? He, uh, doesn’t use his office for that kind of thing. Only the back room. And he always says he never mixespayroll with pillow talk, but I thought…” Another blush hit her cheeks as she rushed out, “I thought I was different.”
“But the zip-tie part?”
“That wasn’t odd. Everyone knows how he is. Bossy and stuff, ya know?” Her mouth curved in a small smile that was downright wistful before it fell just as fast. She glanced at my notes before earnestly coming to his defense as the reality of the situation seemed to set in. “But I knew what I was getting myself into. Or I thought I did. I wanted it. No distress. I wasn’t being held hostage. You saw, I could’ve left at any point.”
That was true. Physically, at least.
I kept my tone gentle. “But did you feel pressured to?—”
She vehemently shook her head, and there wasn’t a shadow of fear or doubt in her expression. “No. No, nope, not at all. Rhys isn’t like that. I’m the one who’s been kind of pursuing him. Flirting a little. Making sure I pop my ass out when I bend down. That kind of thing. He hasn’t really noticed, but I’ve been hoping he would break his rule since the first time I saw him.”
I asked her more questions before offering her my card and the number to a resource center in case she thought of anything else. I’d been at it long enough to know she wouldn’t be using either, but at least she had them.
“Wait here, okay?” I asked, though it wasn’t really a request.
She checked her phone. “How long is this going to take? I have a kid to get home to, a sitter I can no longer afford to pay since I’m unemployed, and I’d rather slink out while everyone is still occupied out front.”
“Just a few more minutes.” With one last sweep of her to make sure she was okay, I stood and headed for the break room. I’d been half-expecting to find Matthews alone, but he sat at a table with Mr. Walker on the other side.
At my approach, Matthews handed me an unlocked phone. “He offered it up himself. No evidence of a sent text.”
I checked his phone, including the message’s trash folder that was nothing but the same BS spam that I got. His number didn’t match up with the one that’d sent the text, either.
That wasn’t a shocker. Sure, there was a chance that he’d used a different phone, but my instincts were telling me that wasn’t the case. He’d seemed genuinely surprised by her simply being there, and he had no reason to lie about the rest. Even if he had sent the text, she was very obviously into it.
It wasn’t a police matter.
But something still poked at me beyond my annoyance of being sent on a wild-goose chase.
Apparently, I was the only one because Matthews didn’t have a notebook out. I hadn’t interrupted any of his questions. He’d been smart enough to get the cell phone, though, so I’d call that a small victory.
I brought out my own notebook and ignored Matthews as he messed around on his phone. “I need to get some info.”
“I already got it,” Matthews said as he showed me his screen.
I skimmed it before fighting the urge to roll my eyes. “The peanut butter cup candy owns a bar named Why, and a woman named Lazy works for him?”
Matthews turned his phone again. “Sorry.”
Did he hire someone else to take the detective’s exam for him?
