It had come out nearly to the penny, leaving a balance of only fifty cents in the settlement account. She smiled and sent a text to Mary: All done.
Then she picked up the phone and dialed a number she’d only told Pen about.
“Agent Daniels,” said the voice of the man Sandy had spoken to a week ago. Before they knew they’d caught Rob Williams and returned the stolen money to his victims, Sandy had hoped this agency could help them. Now she had a different story to tell.
“Yes, Agent Daniels,” she said. “It’s about Robert Williams, the person of interest we talked about before. I’m sending you a list of contacts. I’m afraid it’s not as lengthy as I’d first believed. It turns out he only walked out on a few thousand dollars in rent from his home and office, but I do believe several of his credit cards were up to the max and have accumulated quite a lot of unpaid interest. It seems Mr. Williams tried to escape to Mexico to avoid paying.” She listened a moment. “Well, yes, I figured leaving the country would add some degree of severity to the charges. The amount? Well, we’ve tallied at least sixty-thousand dollars’ worth.”
The agent at the other end hedged a bit.
“I do understand that’s probably not really enough money to justify tracking him to a foreign country, but what if I could get him to come to you?”
She named the date, time and place of the supposed gala.
Chapter 67
Rob dashed up to his condo as soon as Mary dropped him off. During the ride, she’d talked nonstop about how wonderful it was he’d found exactly the home he wanted. It was the most gratifying part of her job, matching people and properties. Rob’s thoughts drifted to the text he’d received from Sandy.
The next investor gala was all set, so although he’d spent nearly all his money on the beach house, now he would have a handsome fund for living expenses. If this one brought in close to the amounts of previous events, he could retire comfortably in Mexico for the rest of his life. One of the points which had been raised during the real estate closing was that now, as a homeowner here, he could open a bank account. A nice account out of reach of the American authorities.
He set up his laptop at the breakfast bar and went through his files. For Saturday night’s presentation, he would use the same movie trailer he’d shown in Newport. He refreshed his memory as to which major actors were supposedly signed to star in it. Picturing himself in a tuxedo at the front of the room, he mentally went through his presentation to refresh his technique and be sure he wouldn’t forget anything.
Maybe he should shave off the beard and get a haircut. In the bathroom mirror he studied his face. Or not. The tousled hair and scruffy face went along with many people’s image of Hollywood. He turned away. He had a couple days to think about it.
Meanwhile, he wanted to drive out and take another look at his new home. If he saw the owners around, he would play it by ear—maybe they wouldn’t mind if he went in and looked over the furnishings. His tour with Mary had gone so quickly, he couldn’t exactly remember everything. He might make a list of things to bring back the next time he came down from Phoenix.
He picked up his keys and phone and strolled down to the parking lot. First, some lunch. He realized he’d skipped breakfast and Mary hadn’t offered lunch today. He pulled onto the road, hoping to find the same place they’d gone yesterday. The margaritas had been excellent and she was right about those enchiladas—he’d been thinking about them ever since.
At the next intersection, he looked both directions, unsure. Which way had they turned? He made a left but it didn’t seem the same. He saw some restaurants but they sat among the ranks of the high-rise condos. The other place had been somewhat out in the open with a large parking lot. Ahead, the view opened up a bit and he spotted a place. It wasn’t the same one, he knew. This one sat close to the sea, but he pulled in anyway. His stomach growled when he read the sign bragging about the best burgers on the beach.
What the hell—all he wanted right now was something to eat. A heavyset man greeted him at the door, ushering him through with a smile.
“Come, señor, have a seat anywhere you like. Maybe something outside? You can watch the dolphins. They very active this morning.”
Why not? Rob walked through the bar area and took a seat at one of the small cement tables which sat in the sand outside. Little palm frond palapas shaded each one.
The man handed him a menu and offered drinks. “Our margaritas are the best ones in town.”
It was becoming obvious everyone said the same thing. Rob smiled but decided he owed it to himself to try one for comparison. When the foamy drink arrived, he let himself get talked into one of the famous burgers. A sip of the drink led to several long slurps—this one definitely might be a contender for the best.
“You are visiting from Arizona?” the man asked when he brought the burger.
“This time, I am. But I just bought a house. I’m moving here.”
“Ah, congratulations! Welcome. Where is you house?”
“Down the beach.” Rob waved vaguely. Where, exactly, was it anyway?
The man congratulated him again and left him to eat. Rob picked up the burger and wolfed down half of it immediately. Food would help. No wonder he felt a little confused. But the burger and fries disappeared and he still couldn’t remember exactly which way Mary had driven him out to the gated community and his new house.
It would be a little embarrassing, but he would just have to call her back and ask for directions. He couldn’t even remember the name of the development. Probably shouldn’t have had all those drinks at lunch. He pushed his empty glass aside and refused another when the waiter offered.
A breeze wafted in under the shady palapa, a chill reminder that it was still January. He stuck money under the edge of the empty glass and walked out into the sunshine. In the distance, he saw how the shoreline curved toward the port area. It was lined with buildings, but he couldn’t tell whether there were many individual homes, such as the area where Mary had taken him yesterday.
No problem, he told himself. He pulled out his phone and found her number in his recent calls from this morning. The phone rang without answer and without going to voicemail. Hmm. Maybe somehow things worked differently down here.
Well, perhaps he could catch her at the office. What had it been called? Beachfront … no, Beach something … Beachside. Beachside Realty. He walked back to the restaurant and asked if they had a phone directory.
The same man who’d acted as host and waiter shrugged and gave him a funny look.
“You know, a phone book.” Rob watched the blank stare. “I need the number for a real estate office called Beachside Realty.”
A bit of recognition. The guy walked over to a rack near the door and picked up a copy of the same touristy newspaper Rob had gotten his first day in town. “It could be in here,” he said.
Rob took the paper to an indoor table and paged through it until he came to a page with the heading Advertiser Listings. There was a number for Beachside Realty and he dialed it.
“Yes, I need to speak to Mary, please.”
“Um, I’m afraid there’s no one named Mary in this office.” The female voice sounded young and American.
“Maybe her sister. She said her sister works there but was out sick this week or something?”
“All of our agents have been in this week, and none of them has a sister who also works here. But any of our other agents would be happy to help you.”
“No, it’s Mary I need to talk to.” He felt his voice rise in irritation.
“Sir, you probably just have the wrong agency. This Mary must be with another company. Sorry.” The line went dead.
How certain was he about the name of the agency? He rummaged in his wallet. No business card. He would have sworn he got a business card. His closing papers for the sale were back at the condo, but he didn’t recall the name of the agency being there, only the names of the buyer and seller and the law firm. He couldn’t p
recisely remember the route to the law office either. This was such a confusing town to drive around in.
He could go back to the condo and look through the paperwork, just to be sure. And he could always try calling Mary on her cell phone later. She was just busy right now.
The waiter came back. “Another margarita, señor? It seems you do not have appointment after all.”
Rob nodded. He needed something to do before he called Mary again.
Chapter 68
The lights of Phoenix and the huge seventy-mile-wide metropolis glowed on the horizon well before the minivan reached the outskirts, the end of a triumphant journey for the Heist Ladies.
They’d spent the four hours on the road talking about their week, laughing over what Rob Williams must be doing right now. Mary had ignored seven calls from his number already. The law office had been cleared of all traces of their short occupancy within five minutes after Rob left, so even if he found his way back there, no one from the regular staff would have a clue who he was or what he was talking about.
“It must be quite the surprise for our mister Robert, being the one who is left penniless and confused,” Pen said.
“Sandy said the money transfers went smoothly as a calm sea.”
“Too bad none of the victims will know exactly what happened,” Amber said, “but I understand the need for secrecy. I’m just glad they got their initial investment back, although I’m sure they might be disappointed there was no huge profit, as they’d been promised.”
“Mom and Hannah are happy,” Gracie said. “I got a call right away. As for me, I am thrilled, as will my loving husband be when I tell him about it.”
“The only thing that still irks me,” Mary said, “is that the judge never got punished for his role in the whole court debacle.”
“We aren’t finished yet,” Pen reminded. “Sandy has a surprise waiting, concerning the greeting committee that will be awaiting Rob when he shows up for his next big gala on Saturday night. Perhaps we can think of a way to involve Judge Alderston and bring his crime to light as well.”
“We’re all tired,” Gracie said with a yawn as she pulled off the 101 freeway and entered Amber’s neighborhood. “I’ll get you all home, then we can sleep on it. In a day or two, I’m sure we’ll come up with something.”
They had three days before the gala. If nothing went wrong, Rob Williams would be in custody by Saturday night.
If.
* * *
Mary spent a restless night and woke early. Lying in bed in the dark was no use. She got up and made coffee, pacing her small apartment while it brewed. The earliest edition of the morning news was on, but everything was negative—murders throughout the night, a brazen robbery in broad daylight yesterday, and no suspect in custody. She switched to a national news channel where it was all about bashing the president and corruption in politics.
The answer came in a flash. Of course—why hadn’t she thought of it earlier?
She poured her coffee and went to the dresser, where she pulled out her small mini recorder. After recording the conversation in which the travel agent admitted accepting cash payment from Judge Layton Alderston, Mary had run into a wall as far as how to use the information. She could play the tape for the judge, but he would instantly deny it. Playing it for his wife would probably not mean anything either—the woman was most likely clueless about her husband’s finances and would think nothing of it. And the man seemed immune from legal repercussions in his own jurisdiction.
But, another idea began to form. She played the tape, making certain the voice quality was clear and that the travel agent actually had admitted the cash payment. It sounded good. She phoned Amber, who at six a.m. wasn’t at her perkiest.
“We still have the banking records that showed Rob Williams taking out the exact amount the judge received, right?” Mary asked, already feeling the effects of her second cup of coffee.
“I … I’m sure we do. Can I look it up later?”
But when Mary told her younger colleague what she had in mind, Amber woke right up.
“Is it too early for me to call Gracie?” Mary asked, after Amber said she was already booting up her computer.
“She’s got kids in school—they have to be up by now,” Amber said.
And Sandy would be preparing for a routine day at the bank. She was likely already awake. Mary began to phone them and set it up as a conference call.
“We’ve got the travel agent’s admission, the Facebook posts where Lois Alderston brags about the trip, and Rob’s bank records,” Pen said when she came on the line. “But is it really enough? The judge seems to have friends on the inside. How can we know law enforcement will investigate him, based on our word?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it is a weak case.” Mary’s voice dropped.
“Alderston—wasn’t that the judge’s last name?” Amber asked. “It’s suddenly ringing a bell. Hold on.”
A scurrying sound came over the line as Amber rummaged through papers on her desk. “How on earth did we miss this?” she said, almost breathlessly. “Intrepid Dog Pictures actually did pay off one investor, with interest on the money. Guess who?”
“Layton Alderston.” Pen’s voice was almost a whisper.
“Exactly. That should nail him, shouldn’t it?”
“I’m calling CNN,” Mary said. “Right now.”
“Wait—wait!” Sandy said. “We still need to get Rob back here to town for the supposed gala. Agent Daniels is lining up his team. We can’t do anything that would give Rob a heads-up, would warn him not to come.”
“She’s right,” Pen said. “We must think this through very carefully. There’s too much at stake, and it’s only forty-eight hours more.”
Mary grumbled a little, but all in all she had to agree.
Chapter 69
Venue is set. Guests seem to be an especially generous crowd. Looking forward to seeing you there tomorrow night.
Rob read the message twice, his pulse rate picking up. Less than forty-eight hours and he’d be sitting pretty. After a frustrating day, as he tried repeatedly to reach Mary, he needed this good news from Sandy. He texted her back: Great news. See you there, six p.m. Give me the address again.
After a week in Mexico, it was good to have someone he could communicate with. Mary, the realtor—what a loser. Get the sale then never return a call. The locals were friendly enough, but frustrating to deal with. No one stressed over anything. Plenty of them offered suggestions when he asked about the various beach communities in an effort to get back out to his new property.
“Oh, you mean Cholla Bay?” followed by directions that took him to some way hell-and-back little hamlet.
“Oh, maybe it’s Puerto Privada,” which turned out to be just another condo complex.
He’d even walked into the office of Beachside Realty, expecting to see Mary there at a desk acting too busy to take his calls, but the people in the office drew a blank when he described her. And another blank when he described the house he’d bought. No one seemed familiar with it, and he could only assume he had the name of the agency wrong. When he had more time, he would visit them all, if that’s what it took. Or he would drive around and find the house on his own. At least he had his legal documents with the lawyer’s signature on them.
That night he packed his things, and Saturday morning vacated the condo. The investor meeting, the gala, was the only thing on his agenda through the weekend. He’d booked a room and a massage at the Westin and entered the address for the west-side venue in his GPS. He would get to Phoenix in time to check in, maybe take a nap—he liked to be fresh and at his best for the presentations—then change into his tux. Sandy would meet him there and help set up the slideshow and trailer. Plus, she’d offered to introduce him personally to a couple of the wealthiest investors.
He sang along with the radio and talked to himself during the road trip. When he got to the border, he had to present his passport to the US border officials an
d to state how long he’d been in Mexico. It was the first official trace of his being away, but the agent was giving him the steady eye, so he answered truthfully.
The gala. He focused on that for the next three hours. It would be the last of these moneymakers. I promised myself I’d do this until I got my needs taken care of, my future all set, then I’m out of the business. He pictured the huge beach mansion and imagined himself on the upper deck, tanning to the deep color of the locals. He would learn the language, blend in, and nothing could touch him after that.
His inner glow continued as he checked into the luxury hotel and enjoyed his massage. By the time he’d changed into his tuxedo, he was ready to face his crowd of admirers with complete confidence. He tapped the address for the venue on his GPS and headed out, allowing plenty of time for traffic. Nothing would ruffle him or derail the plan.
Forty minutes later, he was pulling up in front of the Phoenician, and it looked like everything Sandy had promised. Great part of the city, classy building. Cruising past the front, he could see a brightly lit ballroom, all set with tables and place settings, which must surely be for their party. Guests in long gowns and formal wear milled about. He looked around for Sandy but didn’t immediately spot her.
The parking lot was crowded and a beefy van was pushing him to move along. He drove up and down the aisles until he found a spot, the damn van following along—as if Rob was expected to give way and let it take one of the precious few parking slots. He whipped into the one vacant spot and killed the engine. The stupid van stayed right behind him.
Movie Mogul Mama Page 24
