Page 12 of Benjamin and the Thief

“Ethan gave me a ride. Parking is murder here,” she replied.

“Where is he?”

“Already keeping an eye on the side entrance that the caterers are using.”

“Good. Have you spoken to the Prestons?”

“Yep. They’re both getting ready upstairs.” She motioned to the large staircase that led to the second floor. “There were a couple of changes to the guest list.” She reached for a clipboard and handed it to him. “There were several cancellations and a few last-minute additions.”

Benjamin ran his gaze over the list and noticed the handwritten amendments. He saw that somebody’s plus-one had been crossed out, another individual guest had also cancelled, and two more couples had been added.

“Guess we didn’t get a chance to vet the additions,” Benjamin mused.

“Apparently, they are personal friends. Low security risk,” Lydia said, shrugging.

Benjamin knew many of the names on the guest list by reputation and would probably recognize some of them if he saw them. After all, their photos were often printed in the glossy magazines, and providing security for some of the large society events in San Francisco wasn’t anything new for Scanguards.

“Alright, let’s get ready for the guests’ arrivals.”

While Lydia checked all rooms on the first floor for any issues, Benjamin went to the second and third floors to make sure nobody had infiltrated during the preparations for the party. All rooms were empty. He didn’t enter the master bedroom, since the Prestons were inside getting dressed for the big event.

The guests began arriving an hour later. Benjamin checked their names off the guest list while Lydia directed them onto the terrace where the catering staff already circulated with welcome drinks. From there, they could enjoy a beautiful sunset before the temperature dropped and the party moved into the lavishly decorated salon. There, more catering staff circulated with not only drinks but also canapés. A pianist played jazz to entertain the guests, while the Prestons mingled, greeting everybody and smiling politely.

Benjamin was watching from the entrance to the salon, where he could also see the front door. Several of the guests hadn’t shown up yet, but hadn’t cancelled either.

Conversation fragments drifted to him from inside the salon.

“Congresswoman,” Elizabeth Preston said in her saccharine-sweet voice, “I’m so happy you could make it after all.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. After all the trouble the last few months, this is such a treat…”

“I’m so happy everything is back to normal,” Mrs. Preston confirmed.

“Darling?” James Preston interrupted. “Excuse me for barging into your conversation, Congresswoman, have you met Judge Norton?”

“Briefly,” the congresswoman said. “How do you do?”

“Nice to meet you again, Ms. Silverman,” the man replied, before his voice took on a warmer tone. “Elizabeth, you look stunning tonight.”

“Excuse us, Congresswoman,” Elizabeth replied. “Tylor, I didn’t get a chance to greet you out on the terrace. It’s so good to see you. We missed you at the regatta last month.”

“Work commitments. Sometimes, I just can’t get away. Sandra sends her regrets, but her migraine came back with a vengeance.”

“I’m sorry to hear she’s suffering so much. I still remember when she first started getting those migraines back in college. It’s terrible that the doctors still haven’t found anything that helps…”

Benjamin tuned out the mindless chatter, and his thoughts drifted back to Catalina.

6

Catalina had managed to garner a position among the catering staff working the Preston family’s society event at their private home. It had cost her a few hundred dollars to get one of the young employees of the catering firm to give up her spot and switch with her under the pretense that she wanted to meet one of the guests, whom she had a crush on. The girl had finally relented and accepted the cash.

Catalina wore the uniform the employee had lent her: a black skirt reaching to just below her knees, a white blouse that was a little tight around her bust, and a black vest. So she wouldn’t be recognized, she’d donned a wig of long dark-brown curls. She hated that it itched like a rug infested with a million fleas, but it was necessary.

The glasses she wore were both a disguise as well as a part of her toolkit. They’d set her back over three hundred dollars. They hid a small camera on the black rim, which she could activate discreetly once it was time. Her feet were already hurting in the tight pumps with the two-inch-high heels. She wasn’t used to them, but wearing different shoes would have made her stand out from the other members of the catering staff. And she needed to blend in.

She was mostly staying in the kitchen, worried that Elizabeth and James Preston might recognize her despite her disguise, which would upend her entire plan. In the kitchen, she prepared drink trays and food trays for the other employees to carry to the guests. Nobody questioned her about why she didn’t serve the drinks and food herself, and instead, took over the less glamorous task of cleaning and prepping trays.

She noticed a young man in a tuxedo hanging around the side entrance, an earpiece visible in his ear. She deduced that he was there for security, making sure that no stranger entered the house amid the hustle and bustle inside. She assumed that other security personnel were assigned to the front entrance, but she hadn’t ventured in that direction.