“Max assured me that your daughter has a security detail until I get there.”
“Yes, well, Carter told me he chose you. I’m sure whoever he assigned to my daughter and granddaughter are capable of the job, but Carter would feel better if you were on the case, so let’s get you there.”
“Ma’am? Is there a problem?” the man asked.
“Not on the island, Marcus.”
“I hear Carter always gets what he wants. That must have been tiring for you while raising him,” Gwen said.
“Carter might have his hands full if he tries to fight Maxwell over you, dear. My boys were both spoiled, but they are good men and driven. Carter has a head for things, and I trust his judgment. The fact that Maxwell brought you here must mean that he agrees. That makes you a rare gem in my world.”
“Max was just my cover,” I corrected.
“Keep believing that. He didn’t have to accompany you,” she said. “I’ll go order your breakfast, and I’ll pull the entire file, including the background on Fillpot for you.” She handed me a business card with her cell number written on the back.
I stopped her before she walked out. “Why are you helping me?”
“Tit for tat and I appreciated your honesty. I help you with this man. You protect my daughter. Watching my boys squirm is just a bonus. Marcus will help you with whatever you need.”
Marcus, the security guy, pulled up a chair next to mine. “If you’ve got any questions on how this works just let me know.”
“This is a Restell G36 security system. You should really update to the G45. It has better visuals and a wider viewpoint. You’ve also got blind spots in the security I found last night from my recon, but I can help you fix those later.” I glanced at him. “That is if you need help.”
Marcus grinned as he stared at me. “What are you, a fed or private security?”
“Operative for FDG.”
“I thought Fairy Damn Godmother was just a myth.”
“That’s what they want you to believe. Just like being invited to this island is by word-of-mouth, so are our assignments.”
Marcus rubbed his hands together. “And why are you after this guy?”
“He’s a personal project.”
“Then let’s get personal. Just tell me where you want to start.”
“I need you to watch his movements so, when I break into his room, I’ll know his location.”
“Wait… did you say, break in?”
“I plan to steal every dime he has and return it to those he stole from.”
“A modern-day Robin Hood, and female to boot. I can dig it,” Marcus said.
That wasn’t totally accurate, and it wasn’t wrong either. My endgame was making Fillpot suffer the same anguish as my Grams. I spent the next hour eating the plateful of pancakes and bacon that Martha had sent in and reading through Fillpot’s file. His pattern of twice-yearly island visits was easy to spot. If I had to guess, he visited between his scams when he was trying to hide out.
Someone had left blank the referral question on the application that allowed him entrance onto the island. “I thought this place was by reference only and word-of-mouth.”
“It is.” Marcus snatched the paper from me to get a better look. Flipping it over, he pointed to some initials. “Looks like Daddy Pierce allowed this guy on the island, which is weird. Max and Carter’s father, Edward Pierce, was a god among gods. He didn’t come from money, yet he had business smarts, along with street smarts.”
Marcus ran his finger over the rest of the details as he continued the history lesson on the Edward Pierce.
“Edward Pierce’s first job was at a junkyard. He took pieces of cars and refurbished them, making them brand-new. He always had a love of cars. So, if he granted this guy access, he must know something we don’t. Mr. Pierce wasn’t one to be played.”
“It’s hard to imagine Mr. Pierce approving Fillpot’s application. Maybe he’s somebody from Mr. Pierce’s past? Are there any other records that can tell me more about this guy?”
“Not that I know of, but you might ask Mrs. Pierce.”
I made a mental note to remember to do that. I glanced at the monitor that showed Fillpot heading into the spa. I rose from my seat and grabbed a pen, writing my cell phone number down and handing it to Marcus. “Now’s my chance. Text me if he leaves the spa.”
“What are you going to do?” Marcus asked.
“Break into his room and search it for the money,” I answered.
“No need to break in.” Marcus pulled a card key from his pocket and held it out. “That key will get you into any door on the premises.”
I slipped the key from his fingers and headed out the door. “Text me if you see him heading back to his room.”
“Copy that.” Marcus saluted me.
I stepped out into the hallway and headed toward the elevator in the lobby. Max spotted me and excused himself from the conversation with his mother and headed in my direction. “Where are you going?”
“Handling my business. Isn’t that what you want me to do so I can go take care of your sister?”
The elevator dinged, and the metal doors slid open. Max and I stepped inside. I pushed the number to the sixth floor and waited for the doors to shut.
“Fillpot is on the sixth floor, isn’t he?”
“Fillpot is at his spa reservation, but his room is on the sixth floor. You know you’re smart and pretty.”
“You know breaking into somebody’s room is against the law.”
“Only if you get caught. If this makes you uneasy, you can wait for me in the lobby and pretend you knew nothing about it. But I plan to get answers.”
The door slid open, and Max followed me down the hall. He moved to block the door, holding his arm up to stop me.
Maxwell Pierce
Chapter 11
Gwen was about to break the law, and Max had taken an oath to uphold it. Still, there was no way he would let her go in herself.
She pulled the card key out of her pocket and held it up for him to see. “Max, you need to move.”
Determination stared back at him. She was going in no matter what he said. This was the trade he’d made. Max ran his hand over his head and squeezed his neck. “What do you intend to do if he comes back?”
“We’ll leave before that happens. I have eyes on him.”
Perfect, his employees were accomplices. If word of this got out, he’d be screwed. “So, Marcus is helping you?”
“Your mother offered his assistance.” Gwen’s eyes sparkled.
For the love of God, his mom was just as guilty. Max sighed, and ignoring his better judgment, he took the card key from her fingers and pressed his ear to the door. “Do you hear somebody in there yelling in distress?”
“Why yes, I think they’re yelling that you’re an idiot and we’re wasting time,” she said while rolling her eyes.
“We should help.” Max stuck the card key in the slot and pushed the door open. “Housekeeping.”
“Move, I could have been done by now,” Gwen jostled around him and entered the room. “He’s not here. I’ve already told you, and now we’re wasting time.”
Max followed her inside and gently closed the door after looking up and down the hallway for witnesses. Not a single person loitered in the area to observe the crime. Brunch time normally meant the guests were either eating or already by the pool and beach. They could only be so lucky. “What are you going to do? Look for his checkbook?”
“I’ve got big plans for him once I find what I’m looking for,” she answered pulling two tissues from a box in the bathroom. She handed him one while using the other to conceal her prints.
She searched one drawer, feeling around before closing it. She worked her way through the entire dresser while Max checked the bedside tables. She grabbed the resort notepad and rooted in the drawer for a pencil. She lightly colored the page to reveal a message.
“Maybe I should call you Nancy Drew.”
“If that turns you on.” She pulled out her phone and took a picture when Max spotted a briefcase on the floor next to the desk.
“You say you can pick anything. What about a briefcase?”
“Those three-digit briefcases are simple if you can master the art of number tension.”
“I don’t even want to know,” Max said, leaving the Samsonite briefcase on the bed. He opened the closet doors. A single black suit, along with casual shirts, hung inside. Maybe he’d expected a bag full of cash or disguises, but there was nothing interesting, not even the suit. “You sure this is the guy that stole the retirement folks’ money? There is nothing elaborate or expensive among his things.”
“Maybe he doesn’t flaunt…” Gwen’s words trailed off, and Max glanced over his shoulder to find her with the briefcase open. “What the heck?”
She stood speechless, almost afraid to touch whatever was inside. Max moved behind her to get a better look. A single envelope lay inside with Gwen’s name scrolled across it, along with a symbol stamped into wax on the envelope flap.
“Are you sure you’ve never met this guy before?” Max asked, watching her pick up the envelope. She ran her hand over the red wax.
“I’m positive,” she answered seconds before she pulled her phone out of her pocket. Max saw it vibrate in her hands. Her eyes widened. “Crap, he snuck by the cameras. Marcus has him on the elevator.”
She stuffed the envelope into her bra and put the briefcase back before grabbing her scribbled piece of paper. Max grabbed her hand, pulled her to the door, and peeked outside, just in time to see the elevator doors open.
He shut the door again and pulled her farther into the room. “It’s too late.”
She pointed to the balcony and hurried to unlock the door. They’d just stepped outside and closed the door when the hotel door opened. Max peered around the corner into the room. Fillpot was on the phone.
Fillpot grabbed the briefcase and tossed it onto the bed before heading straight for the sliding glass door. Max’s heart raced as he pressed his back further into the concrete wall. If Fillpot stepped out, there would be no way to explain their presence. He needed to get them out of there.
Gwen’s focused gaze met his. He held his breath while running through any explanation that might sound plausible in his head. Nothing.
The sliding glass door opened, but Fillpot didn’t step outside. “You two can come inside.”
They hesitated, and her eyes widened.
“Don’t be shy,” Fillpot called out. “I won’t harm either of you. I’d hate to have my welcome on the island revoked.”
Gwen was about to move, and Max held up his hand to stop her. He turned the corner, stepping into view. “How did you know we were here?”
“You aren’t the only ones playing with cameras.” Fillpot had his hands in his pockets. “Ms. Bennett, if you’d care to join us.”
Gwen glided into the room.
“I take it you haven’t read the letter?”
“What letter?” she asked.
Fillpot opened the briefcase and turned it toward us. “Don’t be coy, Ms. Bennett. It was my own personal touch. Please… I’ll give you a minute to read it.”
Gwen slipped the letter out of her bra and unfolded it, sliding her finger beneath the flap carefully around the wax seal. She pulled the paper out.
Her face clouded with unease as she read silently to herself. Max moved behind her to read over her shoulder.
Gwen Bennett, your presence has been requested.
“I don’t understand. What are you inviting me to?”
“Not I, Ms. Bennett. My boss.”
“Who’s your boss, and how could you have possibly known I’d hunt you down, much less find you on the island.”
“You aren’t the only one with resources. We had to make sure you were talented enough to follow the breadcrumbs. Regardless, if you accept the invitation, I’ve been instructed to return all the funds we’ve been holding in escrow, along with additional funds that show triple their investments.”
“You think you have a choice of returning the funds? Silly man.”
“Keeping the money was never our intent. Getting to you was our goal.”
Anger stirred Max’s gut as if Fillpot had just kicked a hornet's nest in their direction. “This was a trap?”
“We like to think of it as a test of sorts, an incentive. There is only one thing Gwen Bennett cares about, and that is her family. Your grandmother was the easiest target, so we exploited that vulnerability.”
Gwen lunged, and Max caught her around the waist, pulling her back against his chest. He glared at the man taking in their precarious situation. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“Wise or not, it was the only way to get her to comply and follow me to the island, without the use of force or kidnapping. I’m sure you can appreciate that, Mr. Pierce.”
Gwen
Chapter 12
“What makes you think those are my only options to retrieve my grandmother’s money?”
“I’m almost certain you have more, but the one I’m offering is quick and easy and without bloodshed. We’re well aware of your capabilities.”
“She isn’t going anywhere with you,” Max said, taking the invitation out of my hands. He flipped it over and glanced at the blank card. There was no indication of who was requesting my presence. The only thing I wasn’t telling him was that I’d seen that symbol before when Abby and cousin, John came to town to warn me and my sisters about a threat.
“I think I’ll pass on the invite,” I said, taking Max by the arm and pulling him toward the door. “But if I were you, Fillpot, I’d sleep with one eye open, because you and I have unfinished business.”
“I’m looking forward to the challenge, Ms. Bennett.” Fillpot bowed as we left the room.
I understood how he’d swindled my Grams. I’d expected a slimy car salesman and, instead, had just met a smooth, debonair, smart individual that had predicted my moves. He was anything but stupid.
“I guess our jig is up. No need for the diamonds in the family vault,” Max said, pushing the elevator call button.
As the doors slid open, we both stepped inside. “Are you breaking up with me?”
“Well, no need for the charade. It’s obvious what Fillpot wants, and it’s not the family jewels.”
“He might not, but I do. You know, I hear break-up sex is hot.”
“I thought that was make-up sex,” he asked.
“Makeup, break-up, it’s all the same,” I said, heading toward the security office.
“No, no, it’s not,” he said, taking my hand. “One day, when this is over, I’ll be happy to show you the difference.”
“You sound very sure of yourself,” I said as we stepped into the security room.
Marcus collapsed back in his chair. “Thank God you guys got out. I was giving you another two minutes, and I was going to call the cops.”
“Aw.” I smiled down at him and handed him back his master key card. “Your concern is touching, no matter how unwarranted.” I gestured to the computer station. “Do you mind if I use your computer?”
“Uh, sure.” He slid out of the chair.
I took his seat, pulling the notepad paper I’d taken from the room out of my pocket, and unfolded it.
“Is that…” Max asked.
“You should leave, Max. Plausible deniability.”
A smile twisted onto my lips as I went to work. Once I ghosted the computer to make it untraceable to even trained counter-attackers, I launched the software I’d designed. It was a counter-offensive that was attacking and tracking the Swiss account number back to its source. I’d left some tripwires to alert me to anyone following my pings. The program slowed and stopped on a single bank name in the Cayman Islands and the account number I’d typed. The word Verified was next to it.
I remotely connected to my computer at home to access my other software and let it run, trying to decode the
password. It didn’t take as long as I thought. I cracked my knuckles, and within a few keystrokes, I’d removed every penny and transferred it to my own island account. When I was finished, I rose and realized the whole chase had taken two hours. My stomach grumbled.
“I’m famished; how about we get lunch?”
“How did you learn to do that?” Max asked, escorting me from the room.
“I can’t tell you that.” No way was I about to throw my sister under the bus.
“You’re mimicking someone else, aren’t you? You’ve seen this done first-hand?”
“No comment.”
Max had me bypass the restaurant with promises of deliciousness delivered straight to our door. I didn’t complain. Not when I still had work to do. He ordered our food, and we ate while I called in an update to Ms. Delany. She wasn’t surprised that someone had lured me to the island. She didn’t even seem surprised that I’d confiscated all the money from the thief. Nor that I’d given everyone from the retirement home their money back before sending a nice little email with the account information to the FBI, along with details on the other accounts the douche had access too. Following the money should make it easier for them to track the guy. Maybe now they had enough evidence to put some iron around his wrists.
We ordered room service and settled with the tray in the middle of the bed as if we were on our very own private picnic. Stealing money had worked up my appetite.
“Who do you think the invitation was from?” Max asked.
I studied the gold-engraved words and the red wax seal. That was all I had to go on unless, by some miracle, there was a trace amount of DNA or fingerprint other than Fillpot’s. “I don’t know, but I have a feeling, until I agree, these people will continue to hound me. I should warn my family to take precautions.”
“You haven’t told me much about your family,” he said.
“Why would I? This is a working relationship.” I plopped the last French fry into my mouth. I licked the ketchup off my fingers and crawled over our plates. I planted my lips onto his as I rested against his body.
Rotten Apple (Bennett Dynasty Book 1) Page 5
