Under Hidden Skies (Shadows Between Lies Book 3)

by Nicky Webber

  ‘You don’t wanna know!’ laughed Hawke. ‘I’ve really got the inside track on you three now.’

  ‘Hawke!’ Maddy warned, and smiled up at Logan and Fred, who joined the huddle on the sofa.

  ‘I was just giving him a bit of an insight into how we share everything, including a great friendship. You know, the basics like companionship. We were talking about Sacha,’ Maddy reddened, realizing the men must wonder what she is jabbering on about. ‘Hawke’s getting more serious,’ she finally said.

  The two men exchanged a look. It was hard to interpret, apart from guessing they had discussed Sacha’s commitment to Hawke too.

  Fred offered more drinks and went back into the kitchen area.

  Maddy glanced up and called out. ‘Fred, there’s mail on the countertop for the two of you.’

  Moments later, Fred arrived with several letters in his hand. Two were bills for the household and two others from the IRS. One for himself and another for Logan. He frowned as he noticed it addressed the window envelope to his best friend:

  Logan Jones

  Director

  Panda Bear Holdings Ltd

  Adrenalin flooded his body as his mind raced to think of an excuse. The IRS had used his name as the official director and matched it somehow to their home address. What could he say? How could he explain or dissuade Logan from opening it? It was too late. Within seconds, Logan had seen his name and held out his hand for the offending envelope. Fred had no choice but to hand it over.

  ‘Damn taxes,’ Logan stated, opening the letter with a kitchen knife. The official document summarized the past year’s annual taxes paid in by his “employer.” Fred kept his eyes trained on Logan, who looked confused, flipped the letter over and back again.

  ‘What is it?’ asked Fred. ‘Something wrong?’

  ‘Who the hell is Panda Bear Holdings?’ Logan asked, looking at the others and back at the statement for VAT in his hand.

  ‘What?’ Fred asked, feigning confusion. ‘Let me have a look?’ He took the two pages from Logan’s hand and pretended to read them as his racing mind formed a reasonable explanation. The paper trembled slightly in his hand with the flooding of cortisol and adrenaline while all expectant eyes were on him.

  ‘I see,’ Fred said. ‘This has got to be a computer glitch. They’ve mixed up your individual name with someone else’s business details.’

  Both Maddy and Logan had the same expression of bewilderment. It was only Hawke that looked shocked into silence and just stared at his half-filled glass on the coffee table in front of him.

  ‘How the hell can that happen, Fred?’ Maddy asked, and Hawke coughed uneasily.

  ‘Dead easy,’ smiled Fred reassuringly. ‘It happens all the time. Some idiot has been upgrading the IRS system software and didn’t use the test database. When they ran the new program, it picked up where it left off, and the sequence and association of company names with individual names were out of sequence.’

  ‘But I’m not a business director,’ Logan asked, his baffled eyebrows raised in disbelief.

  ‘Give it to me. I have a meeting with the tax revenue IT team. It’s a brilliant example of the rubbish some novice would do when running reports,’ offered Fred. ‘Look, here’s mine. He handed over his own letter to the IRS. This is what you should have had in the envelope. Crazy stuff.’ he laughed, holding his palm out, and Logan automatically placed the pages in Fred’s open hand.

  ‘Believe me, I deal with these imbeciles all the time. In fact, Monday’s meeting with them is about this kind of stuff,’ said Fred. ‘They’ll be keen to have a real-life example. Maybe they’ll listen to me and take security seriously in the future.’

  Logan shrugged at Fred, while Maddy looked from one man to the other, unable to interpret what had just happened. It all sounded so weird. She glanced across at Hawke, who looked positively uncomfortable, shifting uneasily in his seat.

  ‘Well, I better head home,’ Hawke finally said.

  ‘Do you still want to borrow that drill?’ Fred asked.

  ‘Nah,’ said Hawke and looked into Fred's intense blue eyes, needlepoints transmitting another response. ‘Actually yeah, I’ll take it if that’s Okay? Can you show me where the drill bits are?’

  ‘Sure,’ Fred said nonchalantly, and turned to Logan and Maddy. ‘I’ll just sort this out and be back in a sec.’

  The pair disappeared into the double garage, with Fred closing the internal access door firmly behind them.

  ‘What the hell?’ Fred said, gripping his son’s left shoulder hard. ‘You nearly blew it all in there!’ his voice a deep, rasping staccato.

  Hawke shook his head. ‘I didn’t know what the hell was going on.’ His pale face stricken with stress and confounded by Fred’s accusation.

  ‘Your whole bloody silence and grim face looked like you hand-delivered that damn letter yourself,’ Fred started, anger rising.

  ‘How was I to know?’ pleaded Hawke, his face tense with anxiety. ‘How the hell did the IRS put his name on our business?’

  Fred let go of his grip, and walked towards the garage door, pressing the automatic button to open the roller doors, and strode outside. He waved to Hawke to follow him, fury rising in his cold, rigid expression.

  They stood on the concrete driveway a few feet from the sidewalk, discussing how the IRS sent the letter to Logan.

  Fred hedged and waffled, which was very unlike him. Hawke frowned and raised his voice. ‘But how? How the hell would they associate Logan with this address and put the holding company in the address?’

  ‘Keep… your… voice… down,’ Fred instructed. He looked up suddenly, beyond Hawke’s head. He saw a flicker of a movement beyond the neighbor’s hedge. A jolt shocked Fred as he recognized the husband he was at war with, lurking in the adjacent driveway.

  ‘Come over here,’ he breathed at Hawke, walking to the opposite side of the driveway, looking towards the hedge.

  ‘All I can guess is that our shared property has all our names on it and must be set up in their databases for tax tracking,’ Fred said, almost through clenched teeth. ‘There’s been some screw-up with their computer algorithms. The IRS systems matched him to the fake business because the mailing address was the same.’ He was breathless with anxiety. ‘I just don’t know, but you can take it from this little exercise, Hawke, that it’s dead easy to get caught.’

  CHAPTER 40

  One Man’s Cheesecake

  ‘Did you read this?’ Logan asked as both men were scrolling through the newsfeeds on their cell phones over breakfast.

  Fred didn’t respond but glanced expectantly at Logan across the table.

  ‘There’s an article here about a nude domestic cleaning service,’ he chuckled, looking up at Fred. ‘They’re looking for specific cleaners that match their requirements.’

  Fred gave a wry grin. ‘Seriously?’

  Logan read out the details, and the implied additional fees that would accrue depending on the service delivery.

  Both men guffawed and snorted.

  Maddy strolled into the room in her pj’s and flicked on the coffee machine. ‘Coffee?’ she asked, and both men replied with an affirmative grunt. ‘What’s so funny?’ she asked as she pulled out a chair and slumped at the table, still half asleep.

  ‘We’ve found the ideal job for you,’ Logan explained.

  ‘Yup. It’s just perfect,’ Fred added as a puzzled frown fleetingly crossed Maddy’s face.

  ‘Is that so?’ she said, pursing her lips together with apparent skepticism.

  ‘It’s not just the domestic cleaning, you love so much, which is a fairly reasonable proportion of the job description,’ Logan continued. ‘But we both know you’re much more than just a pretty face.’

  Fred exchanged a look with Logan as they both grinned broadly. ‘It’s well paid, too,’ Fred said.

  ‘What the hell are you two on about? I need coffee first before I can handle any more crap.’

  Fred handed
the cell phone to Maddy, and she took a few seconds to read the news story. She drew in her breath and looked from one keen male face to the other.

  ‘Okay boys, how much are you going to spring for me to clean the bathrooms naked?’

  ‘So many virgins and so few martyrs,’ quipped Logan as they all started laughing.

  Maddy stood up. ‘I’ll shower first, so you two have ten minutes to work out if you’ve got the hard cash to pay for my domestic services.’

  ‘How much are we talking about?’ Fred asked with all three chuckling.

  ‘You guys don’t know how lucky you are,’ Maddy said. ‘On the open market, I’d be at least $5,000 for the full naked floor scrubbing service and I only talking across ten percent of the house.’

  Logan leaned back in his chair and raised his eyebrows. ‘Not bad eh, Fred?’

  ‘Yeah, we’d spring for that!’

  Maddy left them to their fantasies and headed for the bathroom. The topic would be back on fishing or cycling by the time she returned for that coffee.

  Later during the day, Maddy told Fred and Logan about the marriage plans between Hawke and Sacha. Neither expressed surprised but were concerned about the couple marrying too soon.

  ‘They should wait another year and, if the relationship holds water, then go ahead,’ Fred said.

  ‘Yeah, Fred’s right,’ offered Logan. ‘We should have a talk with them to slow the pace down a bit. They’ve had a few major events in the past year, so taking a bit more time to be sure about their commitment makes absolute sense.’

  ‘It’s hard to believe that my baby boy is marriage material,’ said Maddy, taking the conversation off on another tangent.

  ‘Yeah,’ sighed both men in unison, smiling.

  CHAPTER 41

  Died in the Wool

  As part of fulfilling his FBI fitness certification, Bruno had to face an annual health check. Over dinner Bruno discussed the need for strength and speed with his in-laws, Maddy, Fred, and Logan. At twenty-eight old he bragged about doing seventy push-ups in sixty-seconds, much to the amazement of the adults in the room.

  Being competitive naturally led Logan and Fred into considerable training to exceed young Bruno’s achievement. Every morning they announced their number.

  ’Eighteen,’ said Logan.

  ‘Twenty-two’ said Fred.

  ‘Zero,’ added Maddy. ‘Don’t do it to impress me!’

  ‘I can’t believe he did seventy in a minute. His nose couldn’t have touched the floor,’ Fred suggested.

  ‘Yup,’ agreed Logan. ‘It’s got to be bullshit.’

  This carried on for a week. Both men scored in the thirties for push-ups first thing in the morning.

  Maddy counseled them. ‘We’re getting older, let’s enjoy life and have fun. Who needs to compete with younger males trying to prove themselves. It makes little sense.’

  Maddy had already had her own experience of competing with youth, and it was often a lose-lose situation. A girlfriend had encouraged Maddy to dye her hair, cover the gray, or become one of the invisible. ‘You’ll realize it when no one asks for your opinion anymore,’ said her good friend, Jess, ‘and your voice is unheard in business meetings. Gray is aging, no matter what anyone says. Escape it while you still can!’

  After having her eyelashes dyed, which proved to be a trauma, Maddy let time stamp itself on her body… some more. An older girlfriend warned; ‘Go gray, if you must, but remember, always align your nipples before you step out of the front door!’ Sage advice Maddy thought with clinging artificial fabrics leaving nothing to the imagination.

  She complained to a friend that she could barely walk in high heels anymore. Her friend snorted, laughing at Maddy. ‘Darling you of all people, living with two men, can hardly call yourself down-home and dowdy. Wear sneakers, with the baby boomers being the majority now, they’re all very fashionable with everything!’

  After a busy week, Maddy left the housework for Sunday. Never mind religious ethics, who could expect a day of rest, anyway?

  The men would cycle for over two hours, allowing plenty of time for Maddy to complete most of the housework. She felt like the drudgery of domestic life was sucking the energy out of her existence and draining her sense of humor. Every day was rinse and repeat, a treadmill of household demands. She berated herself as soon as the thought entered her mind. It had only been six months ago that their adventure to Morocco had been a holiday to beat the best.

  She sighed out loud, carrying the toilet cleaners to make a start on the bathrooms. As she squirted the blue liquid in the bowl, she heard the front door open. It must be Fred. She would give him something to think about. Being a creature of habit, she knew he would make a beeline to the shower after throwing his sweaty Lycra gear into the washing machine on his way to the bedroom.

  Fred strode down the hallway, feeling pretty pleased with himself. He beat Logan by at least fifteen minutes and was already home. Fred glanced at his Strava statistics on his wristwatch. Yeah, he had smashed it. Must’ve been the good night’s sleep and no wine the night before.

  Almost naked, Fred carried a hand towel, wiping the perspiration from his forehead as he marched into the bathroom. Standing at the toilet with a bowl-brush in her hand, partially shoved down the toilet, was Maddy, completely naked and smiling.

  ‘Would Sir prefer the complete naked house clean or merely the full service?’ she moved her shoulders and hips in a playful pin-up pose.

  ‘Whoah,’ Fred said, grinning. ‘I’ll have everything you’ve got!’

  ‘Better make it quick,’ Maddy giggled. ‘Logan can’t be far behind.’

  ‘Screw him,’ said Fred, reaching out for his wife.

  CHAPTER 42

  Onslaught

  Fred wanted to avoid any more confrontation and arguments with Hawke about the timing for pulling out of the project. He planned to shut it down himself in the next few days. Not that Hawke didn’t know this was going to occur, but now the stipulated deadline for the project’s removal was well and truly exceeded and every day over the time frame increased Fred’s anxiety over being caught by the authorities. It was only a matter of time before police would come calling. In nearly twenty-months of operation, the project had delivered each of them over two million dollars. It was enough and time to dismantle the entire undertaking.

  With growing agitation, Fred had already explained to his son that destroying all traces of the counterfeit business and the software could take several weeks. He was still annoyed at Hawke’s indignant response and how he tried to wheedle around Fred’s final decision. Infuriated by having to go over the same issues again, Fred grabbed his son by the top of his right arm and shouted. ‘This is final. Get it? Final and no more discussion!’

  Fred’s heart still raced, incensed by Hawke’s ongoing manipulation. As his breathing slowed, he noted that the only aspect of the entire operation that could not be dismantled or destroyed was the safe deposit box with the incriminating evidence against Logan. He would hold on to it for another six to 12 months to ensure they were home free.

  Just one minor aspect he had completely overlooked. The IRS policy of having access to financial transactions, bank accounts, and tax documents for at least three years. ‘Okay, three years it is,’ thought Fred, ‘Logan’s DNA, and that damning documented evidence will have to wait.’

  He exhaled through his mouth and unexpectedly felt gratified. Although Logan would be completely unaware, Fred knew he had him in a pincer movement. A sword of Damocles could fall at any moment for three long years. He smiled to himself at the irony of revenge, waiting, cooling its heels in the background while life would continue as it always had.

  He reminded himself how satisfying it was to know he had his wife’s not-so-secret lover in a criminal chokehold. Whenever he got frustrated or annoyed with Logan, he would accept the situation, not fight it. Go with acceptance, Maddy often said. Take the high road. He struggled to understand this concept. He believed if he ha
d to pull the pin and put Logan in the firing line, it wouldn’t worry him in the least. Logan deserved to be punished, and so did his wife. What better way to deliver twelve years behind bars for Logan and have Maddy conveniently separated from her lover.

  Over the next few weeks, Fred set about destroying all traces and history of the project ever existing inside the four businesses. He ‘sold’ Panda Bear Holdings and signed Logan’s name on the paperwork, closing down any physical evidence. Fred set about incinerating all the papers, folders and charts that had supported their bogus head office and loaded up several trailers of office equipment and spread it around two of the main dumping sites outside the city. He made sure he removed the computer hard drives, smashing them with a hammer and left the destroyed boards soaking in turpentine overnight in the garage before adding them to the bottom of that week’s trash collection.

  Hawke met him at the park the following Sunday and Fred asked for his project burner phone.

  ‘Why?’ asked Hawke, strolling beside his father in the warm, early morning light.

  Fred sighed and turned to his son. ‘I’m destroying everything, and the phones are part of the project package that is no more.’

  Hawke’s face grew sullen as he pulled the cheap cell phone from his pocket and passed it over to the older man. They walked on in silence for a few minutes. Hawke was the first to speak.

  ‘Hey, I’m grateful. It all ran like clockwork, and I guess because it was relatively easy to accumulate the money, I just thought we could have a break for a year and do it again.’

  Stopping immediately, Fred turned to face Hawke and spoke in a quiet monotone voice.

  ‘It was a very illegal and persuasive illusion, but now it’s over.’

  ‘But so much went into the setup and…’ Hawke started down that same old, manipulative path to nowhere.

  ‘We’re not merely bedwetters running on wheatgrass.’ Fred’s tone was firm and immoveable, his voice on the cusp of anger at Hawke.