Game Theory--A Katerina Carter Fraud Legal Thriller

by Colleen Cross

  “I don’t know—the lawyers will figure that out.”

  “You’ve just told me they’re ruining people’s lives. Yet you’re willing to let them continue so you can publish your second book?” Kat rose. She’d heard enough lies tonight.

  “I’m not giving up years of research for nothing. The book is payback. If other people are harmed by it, there’s not much I can do.”

  “Sure there is. If writing a story is the answer, why not do it right now and expose them? Sooner is better.” Suddenly it occurred to her—that was exactly what Jace wanted to do. Jace was a threat to Landers. Publishing now meant Jace could get the scoop on Landers.

  “A few more weeks or months won’t make much difference. They aren’t going to dismantle the currencies and governments overnight. Where’s that first aid kit? I really should bandage my hand.”

  Kat shook her head. Suddenly she knew what was bothering her. If Jace really did tell Roger Landers to meet at the cabin, why didn’t Landers know about the key under the flowerpot?

  Chapter 50

  Kat sensed the morning light before she even opened her eyes. She blinked as a soft, diffused glow filtered through the loft window’s curtains. She shivered and pulled the comforter up around her shoulders. There was no heat upstairs, and the stove had burnt through the wood fuel sometime during the night. The firm mattress dug into her back. She winced and rolled over. Her breath vapored in the cold, damp loft as she inched towards the window. She wiped a small circle from the thin layer of ice that had formed on the inside of the window and peered outside. Exactly the same view as yesterday. Quiet, desolate, and deceptively serene. Too quiet for the drama playing out in her life.

  She’d slept fitfully, worried about Jace. Was Landers really telling the truth about Jace’s whereabouts, or was it just another lie? He had already deceived her about meeting Jace at the cabin. Was he lying about Jace at the Hideaway Bay RCMP station too? Just because the station had been closed when she checked didn’t mean no one was locked up inside. She wanted to believe, but maybe that was naïve.

  But what if Landers was telling the truth? Then she’d convince Jace to forget about the story, hand Zachary his report, and be done with it. Let Landers have the story. Nothing was worth this.

  She shivered as she eased out of the covers. The sooner she got moving, the sooner she might see Jace. She stood and dressed quickly, pulling on her clothes from yesterday. She would have left last night if she could, but the winter weather and terrain made it impossible to hike in the dark.

  Dishes clanked downstairs, reminding her she wasn’t alone. A knot settled in her stomach at the thought of spending any more time with Roger Landers.

  She peered over the loft edge and felt the heat rising from the wood stove. The smell of coffee and toast wafted towards her, reminding her of Uncle Harry. Was he with Hillary? The thought of Hillary making him breakfast, let alone staying with him for more than a few hours seemed extremely unlikely. She pushed the thought out of her mind and loaded her still-damp clothes into her pack.

  Kat descended the ladder, carrying her pack.

  Landers glanced up from the table and smiled. “Coffee?”

  “Sure.” Kat dropped her pack by the door. If she had to spend another few hours with him hiking out to Hideaway Bay, she’d at least be civil. And decide once and for all whether he was friend or foe.

  Thirty minutes later, Kat waited outside the cabin. Landers hammered nails into the broken cabin door with an axe blade. Kurt wouldn’t be happy about Landers’s butchering of the hand-carved door, even if it was secured. She would get it repaired before Kurt returned from wherever he was, since it was unlikely Landers would contribute anything beyond the primitive job he was doing right now. He wasn’t the kind of person to feel obligated or apologetic enough to fix it right. He’d be a good match for Hillary. They both had that sense of entitlement, never willing to lend a hand to anyone else. On second thought, maybe even he was too good for her.

  “Just a minute—I forgot something.” Kat trudged around the side of the cabin and scrounged inside her pockets for pencil and paper. She scribbled a note and wedged it into the woodpile, making sure it stuck out enough to be noticed without blowing away. No matter what happened, at least Jace or Kurt would know she had been here.

  Ten minutes later they were on the trail. It was a crisp, clear day and the trail flattened out after the first hill out of the valley. Kat stepped in her snowshoe tracks from yesterday, undisturbed until now. Small animal tracks beside the trail traced tangents from one stand of firs to the next, undercover and out of sight of coyotes or cougars.

  The return trek to Hideaway Bay was mostly downhill, easy except for a few technical descents. Landers had helped himself to Kurt’s snowshoes, and Kat wondered how he’d managed the mostly uphill hike to Kurt’s cabin in the first place without snowshoes or skis. She’d have to remember to bring Kurt’s snowshoes when she returned to get the door repaired.

  Landers was already short of breath. She’d ditch him in a minute, except he was her only remaining chance to find Jace. Only he knew the truth of what had happened that night with Nathan and Victoria. But he deftly avoided the subject every time she brought it up. He insisted he was equally a victim of Nathan and Victoria, though he was very short on details.

  “Don’t you care about democracy, Kat?” Landers stopped at a fork in the trail and turned to face Kat. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and he had already unzipped his jacket.

  “Of course I care. But the World Institute isn’t at the top of my list of worries right now.” Like Landers actually bought into the whole democracy concept. He’d probably just use her opinions as fodder for his book. He’d been at her the whole trip, trying to gauge or sway her opinion about the World Institute. It didn’t take a genius to see that his actions were designed to achieve what was best for Roger Landers, period.

  “How can you say that? Give them free reign, and they control the world’s currency. The Euro was only the start. They’re working on a common Asian currency. After that it’s North America. Governments won’t be able to have much control.”

  “What’s wrong with a common currency?” Kat poked at the snow with her ski pole. “There’s less foreign exchange fluctuations, fewer currency conversion costs. It benefits the consumer.”

  “That sounds about right in theory. But it also means fewer people control the currency. Instead of dozens of countries and their central banks, thousands of traders and speculators, it’s reduced to a few.”

  “And that’s bad?”

  “It is when it’s the World Institute. It’s the same men who control world trade, the global media, and—”

  Kat interrupted. “I don’t care. Why didn’t you defend me against Nathan and Victoria? You’re working with them, aren’t you?”

  “Absolutely not. I had to cooperate, or they’d make sure I never worked again. And they promised they wouldn’t harm you.”

  Kat couldn’t imagine either Nathan or Victoria uttering such a statement. Did Landers really expect her to believe that? She stabbed her pole into a snow bank. “What about Jace?”

  “I already told you. The police took him away.”

  “Why Jace and not you?”

  “It was all part of our plan. Once we knew we had been discovered, Jace would take the fall, leaving me to expose the conspiracy.”

  Kat tried to recall the bed in the adjoining room. When Nathan had pushed her down onto the bed, it had been made and unwrinkled. Landers had to be lying. She wanted him to be lying. The alternative—Jace abandoning her for a story—was unthinkable. He would never do that. Not even for a blockbuster story. Would he?

  “I don’t believe you. Stop feeding me all this World Institute crap and tell me what really happened to Jace. You were in the room. How did Nathan know you were both there? What did you tell him?” Kat pulled her pole out of the hard-packed snow and turned to go.

  Landers followed. “Nothing—I swear.”


  “I don’t believe you.” Landers, like most people, had a price. She just didn’t know what it was yet. Why would Jace volunteer himself like that? Kat motioned him forward. If she had to hike with him, she’d make sure it wasn’t easy. “Tell me what happened in that room.”

  “I never said a word. Nathan just barged in.” Landers slowed and fiddled with his gloves, removing them. “It’s warmer than I thought.”

  Kat stared at his bare hands but decided not to say anything. Frostbite might teach him a lesson.

  “Nathan had a pass key. Two RCMP officers were with him.”

  “Police? Why?”

  “I guess because of his room break-in. I don’t know for sure—they wouldn’t say.”

  Kat detected a catch in his voice. “Police don’t show up at random. Someone called them.” Why take Jace but leave Landers?

  “Well, it wasn’t me. I don’t know how—but they knew Jace’s name.” Landers clenched and unclenched his hands, then put his gloves back on.

  A lie, Kat thought. Jace hadn’t been asked for identification. Other than the front desk staff and Angelika, the housekeeper, no one else at the hotel had even seen Jace. And besides Kat, only Roger Landers knew his real name. The resort only had the name of the audiovisual company. “Why didn’t anything happen to you? You were in the room too.”

  “Jace told them I wasn’t involved. That left one of us free to expose the conspiracy.”

  Or profit from it. Landers couldn’t let Jace’s story break before he finished his book. Jace was his competition. How far would Roger Landers go to protect his story? Would he kill for it?

  “We need to get moving again.” She couldn’t waste any more time and decided Landers didn’t deserve a rest either.

  Kat pointed to the right trail fork with her ski pole. “I don’t believe you. Nathan wouldn’t know where to find Jace in the first place. Or have any reason to go after him. Unless you told him.” Only hotel staff knew which rooms were occupied, and they were prohibited from disclosing guest information.

  Landers sighed and followed her. “You think I’m paranoid? You should hear yourself. Why would I be working with them? I’m on the same side as you.”

  Kat said nothing but picked up the pace. She could lose him if she wanted to. He was out of shape, and wouldn’t last long picking up his feet in this heavy, untracked snow.

  “Okay, fine. It was a ploy to lure Nathan. I pretended to co-operate in order to corner him. He promised me a story if I proved someone had infiltrated the World Institute and knew their agenda. Of course Jace was in on it too.” Landers’s breathing grew heavier as he struggled to keep up.

  “Really?” Kat’s instinct about Landers were right. He was obviously lying. How much had Jace shared with him?

  “I’ve been following Nathan Barron for years. He’s very egotistical. When I told him I was doing a story on the world’s most powerful men, he agreed to be interviewed.”

  “What’s Jace got to do with all this?”

  Landers coughed. “In order to get something, I had to give something. I show how Jace infiltrated the conference, buy Nathan’s trust, and get him to talk about the World Institute. When Nathan admits it exists, it lends credence to our story.”

  “Jace agreed to this?” Kat fought the urge to impale him with her pole. It was hard to keep talking to him knowing he had betrayed Jace.

  “Of course he did. And our plan worked. Nathan was so pissed off about Jace infiltrating the conference that he spilled a few secrets.”

  “Like what?” The trail took a sharp right into a clearing and the tiny hamlet of Hideaway Bay came into view below. It was less than a kilometer away, but with the numerous trail switchbacks, it would be another twenty minutes before they reached the sleepy town.

  “Read the book. Until then, my lips are sealed.”

  Chapter 51

  They reached the RCMP station just after noon. Kat unfastened her snowshoes and stomped her feet, shaking caked snow off her boots and gaiters. She pulled on the door handle and to her relief, the door opened this time. She entered the deserted room with Roger Landers right behind her. A row of chairs on one wall faced an unmanned counter. A radio talk show played from a ghetto blaster that sat at the far end of the counter. Static.

  “Hello?” No answer.

  The radio commentator blathered something about the world economy.

  Kat’s ears perked up when she heard Svensson’s name mentioned alongside the Nobel prize in economics. Due to Svensson’s death, another economist had been awarded the prize. An economist who happened to support a common global currency.

  She glanced at Landers who grimaced as he rubbed his hands. He didn’t appear to be listening to the radio. Just as well, since she didn’t want a reason to talk to him either.

  Their argument had deteriorated to the point that they weren’t speaking to each other. Kat didn’t know what to believe, with Landers changing his story every five minutes. Was Jace’s arrest yet another lie?

  Landers let out a loud sigh as he plopped down on one of the vinyl chairs lined up against the wall. Kat watched him from the corner of her eye while she stood at the counter. She scanned the counter for a bell but found nothing. Except for the functioning lights and heat, the place seemed deserted. She hadn’t expected a welcome party, but after a three-hour hike in the –20-degree cold, she didn’t plan to patiently wait either.

  A plain wooden door behind the counter led to what Kat assumed was the inner office and whatever else existed behind closed doors at police stations. Maybe a jail cell with Jace in it?

  “Hello?” Kat shifted on her tired feet and leaned on the counter. Snow slid off the bottom of her snow pants and melted into puddles on the worn linoleum floor. She glanced back at Landers, who still rubbed his frozen fingers, his face contorted with pain. Condensation formed on the windows above him, the air humid from damp clothes and a heater in overdrive.

  She was mad as hell. Mad at Landers for tricking her and then denying it. Mad at Nathan and Victoria. And she wanted to be mad at Jace for chasing the story. But she couldn’t. She just wanted him back.

  She turned back to the door. She was considering boosting herself over the counter just as the door opened. An overweight officer emerged.

  “Can I help you?” His labored breathing was evident as he lowered himself into a worn vinyl chair. The bottom two buttons of his uniform strained against a pot belly bursting to escape.

  “I’m here to see Jace Burton.”

  “Who’d you say?” His face flushed as he rubbed a hand across his forehead. He wiped his hand on his shirt before reaching under the counter to pull out a worn manila folder. He opened it and flipped back a quarter-inch of pages before settling back in his chair.

  “Jace Burton. He was arrested at the Tides Resort.”

  “Jason Burton?” He peered over his reading glasses. “No one here by that name. What makes you think he’s here?”

  Kat read the name on his uniform. Officer Kravitz.

  The same officer from Roger Landers’s TV interview.

  “Jace Burton—you arrested him. A couple of nights ago. I’m told you’re holding him here.”

  “News to me,” Kravitz said. “If I arrested someone, I’d know it.”

  “Maybe another officer did.”

  Kravitz scoffed. “Not likely. No one here but me.”

  “Roger, tell them what you told me.” Kat turned to face Landers, but the bank of vinyl chairs was empty. All that remained were Kurt’s snowshoes in a puddle of smelted snow on the floor. “That guy that was just here—he said he was there when you arrested Jace.”

  “I don’t see anyone.”

  “Officer? How could you miss him? He was just sitting over there. Seconds ago.” Kat pointed to the bank of chairs.

  “No one here but you ‘n me. What did you say your name was?”

  Officer Kravitz turned up the radio volume. The news had been replaced by a talk show host, droning on abou
t consumer debt.

  Kat moved closer to Officer Kravitz and raised her voice. “Katerina Carter. Officer Kravitz, Roger Landers was just here. He’s a journalist with the...” Her voice trailed off when she realized the officer wasn’t listening.

  Kravitz dropped the file he had been carrying under his arm and placed it on the desk. He pulled out a notebook from his shirt pocket and flipped it open. He scribbled something in it, studiously avoiding Kat.

  “Excuse me, Officer Kravitz.”

  “Carry on, I’m listening.” He opened his file folder and licked his finger each time he turned a page.

  “No, you’re not. You’re waiting for me to finish talking so I’ll leave. Except I’m not going anywhere. Jace has to be here. I want proof he’s not.” The clock above Kravitz’s head read twelve-forty-five. Twenty-five minutes till the ferry sailed.

  “Are you the same Ms. Carter that reported another missing person a few days ago?” He looked up and raised his eyebrows. Then he flipped through the folder again. “Says here it was Roger Landers. Now you’ve lost him again and lost another guy?”

  “I’m here about Jace. Is he here or not?”

  Kravitz smiled. “The RCMP isn’t in the habit of verifying who they have or don’t have in custody.”

  Kat crossed her arms and smiled back, barely containing her anger. “Then I’ll just wait here until you do.” What did small town police do anyways? Crossword puzzles? What was Kravitz so anxious to get back to?

  “Fine.”

  She headed over to the row of plastic chairs and dumped her stuff. She made as much noise as she could, hoping to annoy him.

  It worked. Kravitz glared at her.

  “You still here?” He turned down the radio.

  “I told you, I’m not leaving without some answers.”

  He pursed his lips but didn’t say anything.

  Kat met his stare. “I know you’ve got Jace here. Roger Landers saw you arrest Jace. You brought him here. Where else could he be?”