He jumped from the car, identifying himself as an FBI agent and ordering the man to lie on the ground. As expected, the suspect turned and fled back to his van without allowing David the chance to get a good look at his face. This guy had been successfully evading arrest for more than ten years and David had a very old score to settle.
“You’re not getting away this time,” he muttered, pulling out his gun and aiming at the van’s tires.
“Help! Help! I think my mom’s been shot.”
A young girl of no more than sixteen suddenly flung herself from the blue compact and ran toward him, arms flailing, her long black trench coat flapping in the wind. She reminded him a little of his own daughter, Chloe.
David couldn’t risk shooting now. He reholstered his weapon and called out to Goldie in the car.
“Stay on Henderson’s tail,” he said, watching the vehicle race toward the busy road out of town. “You’ll have to get to the freeway via Harewood but do what it takes to find the van again. Don’t lose him.”
“You got it.”
As Goldie turned the car and screeched away, David put his hand on the girl’s shoulder to comfort her. “Is your mom Lilly Olsen?”
“Yes.”
He approached the car and bent to survey the scene inside, bracing for the sight of blood, but instead he saw an apparently uninjured blond woman with a flat palm on her forehead, breathing heavily in the driver’s seat. In the other hand she clutched a cell phone, her fingers trembling around the black casing.
“Are you hurt, ma’am? Your daughter said you’d been shot.”
She held up the cell phone, her face etched with an expression of pained shock.
“It saved me,” she said. “I was holding it in front of my face.”
The cell was all smashed up, a bullet lodged in the metal, creating a small hollow as though a tiny volcano had erupted in the center.
Then she seemed to gather her thoughts and remember what was important. “Astrid! Is she all right?”
“She’s fine, ma’am. She’s right here.”
“Please tell me what’s going on.”
David unclipped the radio from his belt. “I’ll request a police car to take us to your home. There’s a lot of explaining to do.”
* * *
David stood and watched Lilly Olsen comfort her daughter in the living room of their home, stroking her hair and holding her hand. The teenager had understandably reacted with shock and distress after their terrifying ordeal, but after twenty minutes of soothing, David was beginning to lose patience. As a father of two grown girls, he had plenty of experience as a parent, and he felt that Lilly was treating Astrid with too much mollycoddling. If anyone knew where that would lead, it was David.
“Miss Olsen,” he said. “I appreciate the fact that your daughter needs you, but we have important matters to discuss here.”
She ignored him for a few seconds, continuing to stroke her daughter’s hair while sitting on the couch. Then she turned to him. “I realize that you’re here to help us, but my daughter always comes first, so give me a minute or two, okay?”
David gritted his teeth and glanced exasperatedly at Goldie, who had returned from her chase empty-handed. The van had gotten away, and that meant Lilly remained in grave danger.
“You’re safe here, honey,” Lilly repeated to Astrid. “And nothing bad will happen now.”
David stopped himself from interrupting and contradicting her. It was dangerous to tell teenagers that nothing bad happens in life. It was better to tell them that the world was a cruel place and to give them strong boundaries to mitigate the risk.
Astrid rose from the couch. “I’m going to call Noah and tell him why I’m not in school today.”
“No phone calls,” David said. “Not until I say so.”
Lilly rose also and smoothed down her shirt. “She just wants to make a quick call. There’s no harm in that, surely?”
“I said no phone calls.”
“You can’t stop me calling whoever I like,” Astrid challenged. “I’m not in jail.”
“No, you’re not in jail,” David said slowly, reminded of the arguments he used to have with Chloe, the big bust-ups that would result in her storming from the house and spending the evening with her totally unsuitable boyfriend. “But I need you to listen to me and do what I say.”
“Who put you in charge of me?” the teenager said, sliding her eyes from David’s to her mother’s, correctly identifying the weakest link in this scenario. “Mom, can I call Noah?” Her bottom lip wobbled, and she rubbed one eye like a tired toddler. “I just want to tell him I’m all right.”
Lilly nodded. “Sure, but don’t give him any details about what happened today. Tell him you’re not in school because you’re sick. Okay?”
Astrid glared at David with a hint of triumph before strutting from the room, and his hackles rose. Disobedience was something he could no longer abide in young adults. As a widowed single dad raising two girls, he’d made the mistake of believing that you could reason with teenagers, that you could give them some freedom and be prepared to compromise. But that was before Chloe ended up in a car wreck with her drunk boyfriend and suffered irreversible brain damage as a result. Prior to the accident, she had gone off the rails, become totally unmanageable, and David blamed himself for her downfall. If only he had set stronger rules when she was younger. If only he’d come down harder. And now Lilly Olsen was making the same mistake.
“Teenagers need a firm hand, ma’am,” he said. “Trust me, I know. You shouldn’t let your daughter get away with manipulating you.”
Lilly’s brows crinkled beneath her sleek blond fringe. “Manipulating me? Is that what you think she’s doing?”
“Yes, I do. She’s got you wrapped around her little finger.”
She held up a palm. “Excuse me, Agent... What was your name again?”
“Agent McQueen, but you can call me David.”
“Okay, David,” she said with a false smile. “You literally just met me, and you know nothing about me, or my daughter, so can I suggest that you mind your own business and focus on the man who just tried to kill me.”
David rubbed a hand down his face as Lilly’s clear blue eyes bored into his. With her arms crossed and her head slightly tilted, her previously soft features now took on a harder tinge. Her criticism was undoubtedly fair. He had lost concentration, thinking back to times when his own daughter had emotionally manipulated him, just like Astrid had with her mom. At that moment, there was a bigger issue to tackle.
“I apologize,” he said, sitting on the couch. “You’re right. Let’s get to work.” He pulled a photograph from a file that he had placed on the coffee table. “Was this the man who attacked you?”
She responded instantly. “Yes, his name is François Berger. He’s a wealthy art collector, originally from France but living in Pittsburgh for the last twenty-five years. I’ve been speaking regularly with him on the phone for the past couple weeks and he finally came into the bank yesterday to transfer his money to a European account. He’s moving back to Paris next week.” She touched the photo. “He seemed so nice when I spoke with him. Why would he try to kill me?”
David placed the photo back into the file. “His real name is Gilbert Henderson and he’s a con man, born and raised right here in Pennsylvania.”
“No, that’s not possible. This guy has a French accent.”
“It’s fake. Everything about Gilbert Henderson is fake. We’ve been trying to catch him for more than ten years, but I gotta give him respect where respect is due. He’s cunning, he’s smart and he’s always one step ahead of us.”
“So where is the real François Berger?”
“Dead.”
Lilly gasped. “How?”
“We found him in his chest freezer, probably been there a while. We’re doing
an autopsy to establish the cause of death, but it looks like a bullet to the head.”
Lilly clearly struggled to make sense of this. “But... What... Why?”
“Gilbert Henderson targets wealthy individuals with little or no family,” he explained. “He chooses somebody with the same age and characteristics as himself. He then murders them and assumes their identity, before setting out to empty their bank accounts and strip their assets. He does this so quickly and professionally that by the time we’re alerted to the crime, he’s long gone. And so is the money.”
“But I transferred Mr. Berger’s money to a legitimate bank in France. They’ll have procedures to deal with fraud so you can recover it.”
David smiled at her naïveté. “Once the money reached the French account, it was moved again and again via very complex channels. It’s now been funneled into countries where we have no financial jurisdiction.”
“Everything was in order,” she said, her eyes scanning the carpet, perhaps wondering how she could have prevented this crime. “He gave me all the right identification documents and said all the right things. I didn’t suspect a thing.”
“Don’t blame yourself. This is probably the fifth time Henderson has gotten away with this type of fraud. We almost caught him this time when a cleaner reported finding Mr. Berger’s body in the freezer yesterday and we suspected Henderson was the culprit. But we were just a few hours too late. The apartment has been stripped of the expensive artwork and all of Mr. Berger’s accounts are empty.”
“If you know this guy’s identity, why not just arrest him?”
“We have no evidence to arrest him.”
“What? You must have evidence?”
“You are the only evidence we have.”
“Me?”
“Yes. Henderson is careful to avoid security cameras, he doesn’t leave a trace of himself behind and he leaves no witnesses.” David realized that he needed to correct his words. “Actually, that’s not true. He can’t avoid creating one witness per crime, and that’s the bank clerk who performs the money transfers. He deliberately chooses banks where the staff won’t have met his victim and he’ll then interact with just one person during the entire transaction.”
“I thought it was a little strange that he didn’t go to our bigger branch in Pittsburgh,” Lilly said. “But he said he was spending some time with friends in Oakmont and preferred the friendly service of our small-town office.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe I was actually flattered by the compliment.”
“Con men are usually incredibly charming. It’s why they’re so good at manipulating people.”
Lilly was obviously beginning to understand the gravity of her situation. “You’re saying I’m the only person who saw his face while he committed this crime?”
“Correct.”
“What about the documents he gave me? I took copies of his passport and driver’s license as part of the background checks.”
“Those documents belong to the real Mr. Berger, so they’re no use to us.”
Lilly was wide-eyed and unbelieving. “Really? I checked them thoroughly and the photographs matched the person.”
“Henderson only ever selects victims who already bear a strong resemblance to him, and he’ll change his hair, wear contacts and false teeth if necessary. None of the bank clerks have spotted the lie so far.”
“What happened to them?” she asked, her voice suddenly shaky. “To the other clerks who were duped like me?”
David glanced at Goldie, reluctant to answer truthfully. He didn’t want to scare Lilly even more than she was already and, sensing his hesitancy, Goldie stepped into the silence, speaking softly and with concern.
“The other four clerks were all found dead the day after the crimes. We weren’t able to save them in time, but we can help you now. We won’t allow any harm to come to you. With your witness testimony, we have enough evidence to finally issue a warrant for the arrest of Gilbert Henderson. We just need to find him first.”
“Before he finds me,” Lilly said. “Because if I’m dead, then he walks free, right?”
“Right,” said Goldie. “But that’s why we’re here. We won’t let him find you.”
The color had drained from Lilly’s face, and David gently patted her hand, which was cold and clammy. “As soon as Henderson is in custody, you’ll be safe. He’s worked alone ever since his accomplice was murdered ten years ago, so he’s the only threat we need to neutralize.”
“What happens now?” she asked him. “Do I have to go into witness protection?”
“Yes, just for a short while.”
She put her head in her hands. “What about Astrid?”
“Can she stay with relatives until you return home?”
“No, you don’t understand,” Lilly said. “Astrid saw this man’s face when he attacked us today. Won’t that make her a target too?”
David caught sight of his partner’s stony expression. This was a complication that neither of them had anticipated, and Goldie led David by the arm into the kitchen.
“Astrid is a witness to attempted murder,” Goldie whispered. “She saw Henderson’s face during the gun attack and that puts her in the firing line. He’ll want her eliminated too. You know he never leaves a loose thread.”
The last thing David wanted to do was look after a teenage girl, especially one who would undoubtedly push all his buttons and remind him of his most serious failures as a father. But what choice did he have? Astrid was now in as much danger as her mother.
Lilly appeared in the kitchen doorway. “Astrid has to come with me,” she said. “I won’t go without her.”
David noticed that a bruise was appearing on Lilly’s forehead. “I agree. Can you both pack some things? Enough for a week to start off.”
“Astrid’s not going to be happy,” she replied. “She’ll kick against it, but please try to understand that she’s only fifteen. She’s a child.”
Chloe had been only a couple of years older than Astrid when the car in which she’d been traveling slammed into a tree and damaged her young brain. She had been just seventeen when forced to learn to walk and talk again, to use a knife and fork, to regret not listening to her father.
“Astrid may be a child,” David said. “But she can follow orders and do what I ask. I’d like your support in ensuring she complies with my rules.”
He saw Lilly’s jaw clench, her nostrils flare. This clearly wasn’t going to be easy.
“I’m Astrid’s mother, and I’ll make the decisions on what rules she follows.”
David took a deep breath. “From what I’ve seen of the interactions between the two of you so far, it doesn’t appear that your daughter respects your authority.”
“Of course she does,” Lilly retorted.
“No, she doesn’t. She’s willful, disobedient and challenging, and I need her to understand that I don’t tolerate backchat, not when your lives are in my hands.”
Lilly blinked fast, her dark lashes moving so quickly that he almost expected to feel a breeze.
“You don’t have kids, do you, David?” she said.
“Yes, ma’am, I do—two daughters, both now in their twenties. Sarah is a lawyer in Philadelphia and Chloe currently lives in Penn Hills.”
Lilly’s expression was one of surprise. “And did you demand total obedience from them, as well?”
I wish I had, thought David. Maybe Chloe would now be a doctor like she planned, instead of residing in an assisted living complex.
“Let’s stick to the current situation here,” he said, sidestepping the question. “Go talk with Astrid, pack your bags and we’ll discuss details afterward.”
Lilly stalked from the kitchen, but not before he heard her mutter under her breath, “Control freak.”
David leaned against the kitchen counter. He’d
rather be accused of being a control freak than a weak parent. And no matter how hard he tried to understand her reasoning, Lilly was a weak parent, allowing Astrid the freedom to dress like a ghoul, speak like a brat and get her own way.
In order to keep them both alive, he would have to insist that Lilly follow his parenting rules from now on. No exceptions.
TWO
“No way,” Astrid said, removing her neatly folded clothes from the suitcase and placing them back in the drawer. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Lilly sat on her daughter’s bed. Despite Astrid’s insistence on being grown-up and independent, her bed was filled with her childhood teddies. Lilly picked up a white fluffy bear, Astrid’s favorite stuffed toy. She had always called him, simply, White Bear.
“I’m not asking you to do this, I’m telling you,” Lilly said, still stinging from Agent McQueen’s criticism that Astrid didn’t respect her authority. That just wasn’t true, at least not all the time. “You don’t have a choice.”
“Mom, this is crazy. People only go into witness protection programs in the movies. We live in boring Oakmont, remember?”
Lilly wondered how Astrid could have forgotten her terrifying ordeal so quickly. That morning’s school run was anything but boring.
“Somebody tried to hurt us today,” she said. “I mean really hurt us. And you have to admit you were scared.”
Astrid swallowed and Lilly saw the fear momentarily return. “Yeah, I was scared, but we’re okay now, and the guy was probably high on drugs or something.”
“I already explained this to you, honey,” Lilly said. “He deliberately targeted me because of something bad that happened at the bank, and he’ll come back. We need to leave town until he’s caught, and then we’ll be able to come home.”
“How long will it take?”
“I don’t know, but we should take enough clothes for a week.”
“A week? Seriously? It’s Kaitlyn’s sixteenth birthday party on Saturday night. I can’t miss that. And what about school?”
Lilly stroked the soft fur on White Bear. “I know this is hard, but we have to make sacrifices. Our safety is more important than a birthday party or missing a week of school.”
Safe House Under Fire Page 2
