I had no answers, but the longer I thought about it, the more questions were raised.
The phone was passed around the group, stopping with Danny. He hit the call button on the number which sent it and we all listened as a voice told us the number was not connected.
“How are these messages coming from disconnected numbers?” Lizzie asked.
“It’s pretty easy,” explained Riley. “You can buy numbers so you can make private calls. Telemarketers do it all the time.”
“Are you sure you can’t crack Matt’s password?” Danny asked, his voice now holding a hard edge. “You’d know where he’s staying, and you could knock on his door.”
“I’ve tried Danny. Whatever he changed it to is a secret to me.”
“Then I suggest we track him down.”
“How would I do that?”
“Easy,” said Lizzie. “You start with his apartment. My money is on he’s there.”
“He’s not going to hide in his own home!” Danny laughed. “That’s the first place Molly would look.”
“I haven’t though.” I shrugged. “Until today I thought he was overseas, so I had no reason to go looking for him.”
Danny sat back in his chair and stroked an imaginary beard.
“Great,” he said, slapping his knee. “Then tomorrow morning that’s where we’ll start.”
“We?”
“Sure. You’re pregnant, remember? You’re going to need someone to climb through windows.”
Chapter Six
Matt’s house was situated at the end of a cul-de-sac at number 23 Lacey Lane. His was the back unit of a duplex and it was small, old and slightly falling apart. The linear boards needed painting, the flyscreens’ needed replacing, and the grass needed a mow. Most of which the landlord was supposed to take care of and was the reason Matt spent most of his spare time at my place.
The upside was the neighbor only lived in their half of the duplex during the winter months. Summer was far too hot for Mr. Matthews, so he migrated East to New Zealand and only returned when the weather had cooled.
That was fortunate for me and Danny, as it meant no one would be able to see our attempt to break the law.
“What happens to pregnant women in jail?” I asked him, re-tucking my Emporio Armani black T-shirt into my Hugo Boss skinny black jeans. I’d come prepared. “Will they let me keep the baby?”
“Stop stressing. You’re not going to jail. You have a key remember?” Danny too was wearing a black T-shirt over black jeans, only his jeans had the knees ripped out of them. It was important to always be trendy.
“I know, but that doesn’t make what we’re doing right.”
“Well if Matt was more honest, we wouldn’t have to do this, would we?”
I blew out a breath and unlocked the door, my heart pounding harder than it usually would when entering Matt’s home. Stepping over the threshold, we left the heat of the day behind us and entered the darkened interior.
Matt had once told me he’d moved in here with a mate a year ago and had intended it to only be for a short time. However, when the mate moved out and left Matt with an overdue rent bill (as apparently, he’d been pocketing Matt’s contribution and not paying the landlord), Matt had agreed to stay long enough to bring everything up to date. After that, he’d been too busy to find another place to live. Looking around the lonely lounge room, containing nothing but two single seater chairs and a coffee table doubling as a TV cabinet, I wondered if Matt might just be stuck in a rut. Even though the timber flooring was pretty nice, and I did love the French doors overlooking the side yard.
“Where do we start?” Danny asked, wrinkling his nose. “Please don’t say there.”
I looked to where he was pointing, noting the pile of unfolded laundry stacked on one of the chairs.
“Even though, is that his boxers I spy?” Suddenly Danny’s interest was piqued.
I slapped him on the shoulder. “Excuse me, but that’s my boyfriend’s underwear you’re perving on.”
He grinned. “Just teasing. But seriously, where do you want to start.”
“He uses the back bedroom for a study. If he had copies of his visa and travel itineraries, that’s probably where he’d keep them.”
“Great. What are we looking for?”
“Visas and travel itineraries.” Geez. Maybe I should have brought Lizzie instead.
Danny blew out a breath. “Sure, but other than him leaving the country, what exactly are we looking for proof of?”
“I don’t really know. Just look for anything out of place.”
“That doesn’t tell me a lot.” Danny placed his hands on his hips and looked wide eyed around the room. “I’ve never been here before, so everything is new to me. How am I supposed to know what’s out of place?”
“You’re a smart man. You’ll figure it out.”
He gave an over exaggerated eye roll then moved right, along the hall and towards the bedrooms.
I suppressed my own eye roll and moved to the rear of the house and into the kitchen. I wanted to see if there was any fresh food that would indicate Matt was staying here.
The kitchen was dated pre 1980 which meant the countertop was orange, and the cupboards were a dull laminate timber. The tiles were psychedelic yellow swirls and staring at them for too long caused my morning sickness to kick up a notch. Keeping my eyes trained on the fridge, I opened it and checked to see if the milk was still in date.
It was. Plus, the bread was fresh, and the ham hadn’t reached the slimy stage just yet. This all told me he was indeed staying here. But had he ever left like he’d said he had?
“Hey Molly!” Danny’s voice carried down the hallway. “I think this might be what you’re talking about.”
Slamming the fridge shut, I made my way towards him. “Can you keep your voice down? We’re not supposed to be here, remember?”
“No one’s around so what does it matter?” he retaliated, as I entered the master bedroom behind him.
“Well, what if he comes home?”
“Then you can confront him. Anyway, stop talking and take a look at this.” A pen was held between his fingers that he swung towards me, a pink lacy G-string dangling from the end of it. “Is this yours?”
“No. It most definitely is not!” I jumped back out of his reach.
“Matt’s?”
“Not unless he’s a closet cross dresser and I don’t know about it.”
Danny smirked obviously liking that idea.
“Where did you find it?” I demanded, hitting him with a look.
“Under the bed.”
“Do you think it’s been there a long time? Like pre my relationship with him?”
“Not judging by the lack of dust on it. The rest of the floor under there is pretty dirty though.”
“So, what are you suggesting?” I asked, a knot forming in my stomach.
“That Matt find a new housekeeper. This one is definitely not good at her job.”
“I was talking about the underwear.”
“I know.” He flipped it back where he’d found it, his lips tight.