Game Theory--A Katerina Carter Fraud Legal Thriller

by Colleen Cross

Solid. Despite her earlier fears, the truck’s four wheels still rested on the highway.

  She felt relieved and scared at the same time. Had the plow driven off—or gone over the edge? She peered out the window again. The guardrail was still intact, at least on the section within her field of vision. She wasn’t about to get out to inspect further. In case it shifted the balance of weight. In case that guy was still around.

  She turned the ignition and restarted the truck. She slowly maneuvered the truck, inching backwards and forwards until she had disengaged from the guardrail. She steered the truck away from the edge and around so she now faced the right side of the road.

  Kat drove a few miles up the road and pulled over onto a logging road, empty and unused in winter. Her hands still shook as she released the steering wheel. She took a deep breath and instinctively grabbed her cell phone and dialed. Without thinking, she realized she had called Jace. She was about to disconnect when a woman answered.

  “Yeah?”

  Kat tried to place the background noise. Loud, like machinery operating. It could be anywhere—a manufacturing plant, a construction site. Where exactly she couldn’t tell.

  “Who is this?” But the woman disconnected as soon as Kat spoke. The voice sounded familiar, yet she wasn’t sure why. It was hard to tell with all the noise. A busy place somewhere, like an airport or a shopping mall.

  All her other calls to Jace had gone directly to his voicemail. Had she dialed wrong? Impossible, since his number was programmed into her phone. Who was using his phone and why? Was it someone involved in his disappearance, or just someone who had found his phone?

  At any rate, she couldn’t stay here in the middle of the road. She debated going back to town. She should report the snowplow driver to the RCMP. On the other hand, the police had done absolutely nothing about Jace, so it was another waste of time. It also delayed her search for him.

  What if the snowplow waited on the road ahead, looking for more trouble? Unlikely, she thought. Anyone that impatient wouldn’t stick around. He was probably inflicting his road rage on the next vehicle, if there was one.

  In the end she decided to continue driving. The resort was only minutes away now, and once there she would be safe from the crazy driver. She’d report him to police tomorrow. After she searched the Pinnacle Trail and Kurt’s cabin. By then she might have found Jace.

  Kat pulled away from the shoulder slowly, looking for evidence of the plow. But the snow had already obliterated any tire tracks. Already the road ahead appeared as though it hadn’t been plowed for several hours. But hadn’t the driver had his plow down? She couldn’t remember.

  One thing was certain: she’d feel safer once she was off the road. Daylight was already ebbing, leaving her little time to reach the Summit trailhead for the hike to Kurt’s cabin. At least in the wilderness you knew who your enemies were.

  Chapter 48

  Kat caught her breath as she trudged up the last few feet of the Summit Trail, snowshoes heavy on her feet. It was just a thirty-minute side trip from the main trail to the place where Svensson had plunged to his death, but her detour yielded nothing. No trace of the economist or his mysterious female companion. No sign left by the police, or search and rescue either.

  Had Jace followed this same trail before her? There was no way to know for sure, not with the new snow. Other than some deer tracks crossing on either side of the trail, the mountain would keep its secrets.

  She paused for a moment as she took in the breathtaking view of the inlet. Not a place that inspired suicide, if any place actually did. It was also remote—getting here took quite an effort for someone intent on giving up on life. She was weary after two hours of almost constant uphill. But it wasn’t the physical exertion that tired her. It was the mental anguish, not knowing where to find Harry or Jace. She had always turned to Jace, but this time he wasn’t here to help her.

  After arriving at Hideaway Bay, she changed her mind and decided to report the snowplow before embarking on the trail. But the Hideaway Bay RCMP station had been locked up, a Be Back Soon note taped to the door.

  What kind of police station locks its doors? The same kind that don’t return phone calls about missing people, she thought. It made no sense. But then Hideaway Bay was a bit of a sleeper town. Other than the resort, not much happened there. She’d return tomorrow, but first she wanted to check the one place she might find Jace.

  Kat still held a thin sliver of hope that Jace had gone to Kurt Ritter’s cabin. Kurt and Jace had become close friends through search and rescue, even though they covered different territories. Assuming he escaped Nathan, Kurt’s cabin was the only shelter within hiking distance.

  Jace had been anxious to retrace Svensson’s last steps. They had even argued about it, with Kat thinking it was a waste of time. Jace always kept his search and rescue gear in the car, so it was plausible that he had retrieved it from the resort parking lot. Maybe he was hiding out at the cabin? She felt a surge of hope.

  Kurt headed the Sunshine Coast Search and Rescue team, and was likely on scene when Svensson’s body was recovered. At the very least Jace would be itching to talk to him. The big German’s cabin was a further forty-five minutes once she backtracked to the main trail, and Kat and Jace had overnighted there on backcountry hikes many times. She’d have to spend the night this time too, as the sun had dropped almost to the horizon. Even at the forty-ninth parallel, dusk came quickly at this time of year.

  No cell phone reception meant whoever had answered Jace’s phone earlier today wasn’t here. It was also possible that Jace was here and had no way of contacting whoever she was. She felt a surge of hope as she bent down to refasten her snowshoes. She turned around and set off back down the hill.

  The descent went much faster than the climb. Without exertion, her now-damp clothing chilled her. Her thoughts wandered to Jace. If he hadn’t been so insistent on covering the World Institute, she would have wrapped up the Edgewater fraud case by now. She had all she needed with those documents in hand, but Jace had insisted on collaborating with Roger Landers. She never should have brought him, knowing that for him a story scoop overrode everything else. Especially after he was dumped by the Sentinel. But she had underestimated the World Institute, power, and what it did to people.

  Finally the cabin came into view and it couldn’t have been a more welcome sight. Kurt had built the log cabin himself from local timber. It was rustic but functional, comfortable and comforting. Kat wouldn’t have traded it for a luxury suite. Exhaustion overtook her as she reached the front door. She couldn’t take another step. She unfastened her snowshoes and felt under the clay flowerpot for the hidden key. Kat always chided Kurt for keeping a flowerpot at a cabin surrounded by alpine meadow. Both were now invisible under the heavy blanket of snow.

  She opened the door and trudged inside. She was weary to the bone, though it was still only late afternoon.

  The small cabin was furnished in a masculine, functional sort of way. The A-frame had stairs to a loft upstairs with two bedrooms. She had stayed in one of them with Jace last summer. She scanned the room, feeling the weight of all her troubles. Jace was gone, Harry unaccounted for, and Hillary was scheming up something that could only be trouble. She had never felt so alone.

  Kat sighed and dropped her pack on the large pine table. She stooped to gather an armful of wood from the neatly stacked pile beside the wood stove. The stove was cold. No one had been here recently. She lit the stove and stoked the fire until it burned steadily. Then she headed outside to replenish the kindling before darkness fell. Cold air gusted in as she opened the door. The stove’s heat hadn’t permeated the cabin yet, but the building’s log-and-chink construction still provided excellent insulation from the cold.

  She circled the building, trudging through the snow, hoping against hope for any sign of Jace, Kurt, or any other visitors. No human or even animal tracks within sight. Even the woodpile stacked against the side of the cabin seemed undisturbed from when
she and Jace visited in September.

  Untouched.

  A twig snapped. She jumped as she caught a flash of movement in her peripheral vision. It was just a rabbit racing for the cover of bush a few yards away. She stood still for a moment as she adjusted to the quiet. Snow slipped off the branches of the tall jack pines, landing with a soft plumpf. The trees surrounding the cabin usually gave it a cozy feel. But in today’s late afternoon they seemed eerie, casting long shadows across the white landscape.

  She loaded the wood onto her arms and trudged back to the front door, wincing as her arm hit the doorjamb. Her bicep still smarted from Victoria’s needle jab. Enough fuel to last the night. She dumped the wood beside the stove. Tomorrow she would return on a different route, hoping for some sign of Jace. Maybe he was injured, unable to reach the cabin. A long shot, but she had nothing else to go on.

  She kicked off her Sorel boots and laid her wet clothes out in front of the stove before collapsing into the oversized armchair facing the stove. She knew she should eat, but couldn’t even muster enough energy to open her pack on the table a few feet away. Instead, she closed her eyes and felt the heat slowly warm her bones. Wilderness trekking always reminded her how truly immense the world was. Why was it controlled by so few?

  Chapter 49

  Kat jerked awake to pounding on the cabin door downstairs. Someone rammed the heavy wood door, trying to force it open. She sprang out of bed only to hit her head on the low loft ceiling. She swore under her breath when she remembered where she was: Kurt’s cabin in the second bedroom upstairs. Her heart thumped in her chest. Whoever was outside wanted in badly.

  She inched her way towards the ladder leading downstairs and peered over the edge. Even in the dark, her bird’s eye view from the loft gave an advantage over the intruder. The cabin door was already open a crack, the moonlight outlining the doorframe. She was trapped. No escape route.

  The door gave way with a final crack. A man burst in, his dark form silhouetted in the doorway against the moonlit sky. Kat held her breath as he turned to shut the door.

  Kurt had mentioned a cabin break-in once before. Transients sometimes looked for cabins to crash in. This guy might just grab food and leave. Unlikely in the middle of the night though, since it was too dark to travel and there were no other cabins nearby. He would stay until morning, which meant he would check out the whole cabin, including the loft. When he did, she’d better be ready. She felt around on the floor for a weapon but found nothing. She cursed her stupidity at leaving her pack with her pocketknife downstairs.

  The stove. Even if it wasn’t still burning, it would be warm to the touch, a sure sign the cabin was occupied. And her backpack sat in plain sight on the kitchen table. With the door shut it was dark again, but Kat could follow the intruder’s shadow as he surveyed the cabin. He crossed the room and headed straight for the loft ladder. He stepped on the bottom rung and hesitated as he looked around.

  Kat ran to the bedroom and grabbed a ski pole from a pair hanging on the wall. She tiptoed back to the ladder and stood at the side. She waited for the man’s hands to reach the top rung. He would be stronger than her; the element of surprise was her only advantage. Her pulse quickened as she waited, knowing she’d only get one chance.

  She stabbed at the intruder’s knuckles, then dug the pole into his flesh and twisted. To her horror the hulk kept advancing, reaching the top with his free hand.

  “Hey, what the—” He abruptly stopped.

  “Back off!”

  But the man had already wriggled his hand free. She stabbed at his other hand as he dropped down one ladder rung. She recognized him at the exact moment he saw her.

  “You!” Landers stared up at her, eyes wide with shock. “How did you get here?” He paused and shook his right hand out.

  “I should ask you the same thing.” Kat jabbed his remaining hand with the pole. This time she kept it there, impaling the soft fleshy part with the tip of the pole. “Get out!”

  “Kat, what the hell? You’re hurting me. Get that thing off my hand.”

  “No way. Turn around and leave. Now.”

  “Calm down—I can explain everything.”

  She dug in harder. “Explain what? That you betrayed us? Get out.”

  “I can’t go anywhere until you release my hand.”

  Kat lifted the ski pole and held it high as Roger Landers stepped back down the ladder. But he only dropped two rungs, just enough to be out of reach. “Keep moving.”

  “We need to talk first.” He studied her.

  “There’s nothing to talk about.” She pointed the ski pole at him, but kept it just out of his reach.

  Landers didn’t move. “You don’t understand. Just come down here and we’ll talk.”

  “Not a chance.” He wasn’t getting anything else from her.

  “I know where Jace is. Just come down here, okay? I promise not to do anything.”

  Kat lowered the ski pole. Was it a trick to get her downstairs? But what if he could find Jace? Landers had been in the room with Jace at some point. Surely Nathan and Victoria were involved in Jace’s disappearance. “Where?”

  “Locked up. At the Hideaway Bay jail. He told me to come here if things went sideways. To hide from Nathan.”

  Had Jace been imprisoned at the precinct when she visited, mere feet away?

  Landers couldn’t know about Kurt’s cabin unless Jace had told him. At least that part must be true. Kat lowered the ski pole and slowly descended the stairs, careful not to take her eyes off Landers. She followed him to the table and watched him sit down. She remained standing, wary.

  “I’ll give you five minutes to convince me. Then you’re gone.” She knew she wasn’t a threat to Roger Landers without a weapon. The ski pole worked only while she was in the loft, where she had a height advantage. Still, she wasn’t giving in.

  Did Kurt keep a gun in the cabin? If so, she’d better find it before Landers did. Even if she didn’t know how to use it.

  “Why is Jace in jail?”

  “Nathan had him hauled into Hideaway Bay for questioning.” Landers unzipped his jacket and placed it on the chair nearest the door, like he was planning to stay awhile.

  “What for? Jace didn’t do anything wrong.” Nathan Barron might be powerful, but unless the Hideaway police were corrupt, they wouldn’t arrest Jace without proof of a crime.

  “Nathan wants him charged for theft. For stealing those documents out of his hotel room.” Roger Landers sat down at the table, holding his hand. “I think you broke my hand. And it’s bleeding.”

  Kat felt a momentary pang of guilt. Then she remembered Landers’s inaction when Victoria injected her. He didn’t stop Victoria, leaving Kat to be dumped unconscious at the train station. She didn’t owe Roger Landers anything, especially not sympathy.

  As a matter of fact, he owed her. She crossed her arms and ignored him.

  “Didn’t you hear me? I’m bleeding. Where’s your first aid kit?”

  Kat glared at Landers. “Why didn’t they arrest you? You were in the room too.” Was he working with them? Jace had disappeared and she got a needle poke. Only Landers had escaped unscathed. Too many parts of his story didn’t make sense.

  “Jace said he acted alone. I have no idea why they left me out of it, but we need to work together. Let’s focus on getting Jace out of jail, and the real criminals behind bars.”

  “The real criminals?” He hadn’t answered her question.

  “Nathan and the World Institute, of course.” He winced and wiggled his fingers. “The World Institute is committing the biggest crime of all.”

  “They haven’t broken any laws,” Kat said. Nathan, Victoria, and the World Institute might be unsavory, but the World Institute itself hadn’t done anything illegal. Only Nathan had, with the Research Analytics fraud. Not to mention his assault on her and probably Jace. Maybe the World Institute was reprehensible, but discussing world domination wasn’t a crime. She was sick of Landers and his cons
piracy theories. It was his fault they were in this mess.

  “They will. Or else they’ll change the laws to suit their needs. Now they’re putting their plan into action. The debt crisis was just the start, orchestrated by World Institute members. Their banks made big fees off risky loans, not caring if they failed or not. Enough bad loans and the government had no choice but to bail them out. Why? Because letting them fail has a cascading effect. The same people running government are or were running the banks. All those treasury secretaries and bank governors come from the banks. It’s incestuous.”

  “You’re implying the bank failures happened on purpose?” Kat walked over to the kitchen table and struck a match. She lit the kerosene lantern and sat at the opposite end of the table from Landers, wishing she’d never met him.

  “Sure. A few profit, but the majority pay. Not only do bad loans enrich the bankers; they also further the goals of the World Institute. When governments bail out the banks, they raise taxes to remain solvent. When they can’t raise taxes any higher, they simply print more money. At best, the currency devalues. At worst, it becomes worthless. No matter what they do, we taxpayers ultimately foot the bill. Eventually the currency fails, and the World Institute swoops in as savior.”

  “Why didn’t you say all this to Nathan Barron when you had the chance?” Here she was, stuck in a cabin with no power and no cell coverage. Was it with a friend or an enemy? Roger Landers said the right things, but his actions spoke otherwise. “Why should I even listen to you? You didn’t help me at the hotel.”

  “It’s complicated.” Landers leaned back in his chair, nursing his sore hand.

  “How complicated can it be?” Exactly the sort of thing people said when there was a cover-up.

  “If I say anything too soon, they’ll suppress it. Once my new book is out, they won’t be able to stop it. It will expose them, and they can be charged.”

  “Charged with what, exactly? This is just all about you—your book, your investigation. Getting famous, and getting credit.” Everyone else was collateral damage. Like Jace.