by Desiree Holt
Her pulse accelerated a tiny bit. New York. London. Glamorous places she was dying to visit, but at the moment had little chance of seeing. Why did she have to be born to such old-fashioned parents, anyway? She was sick of the old-fashioned restrictions everyone in their social circle or extended family adhered to. The timeworn rules and regulations imposed on females her age. By this time in her life she should be able to spread her wings if she wanted to.
“We are looking for some specific types,” he told her, “and you fit the bill. You have a nice fresh yet exotic look that our clients will pay high dollar for.”
“This is…very flattering.” She kept staring at the business card.
“We represent some of the top marketing agencies in the country, and you can earn anywhere from two hundred and fifty per hour to ten thousand dollars per day.” He smiled. “Interested?”
Interested? Is he kidding? A chance to be independent. This is like a gift.
“I have to think this over. You understand. How would I contact you if I am?”
“Just call the number on the card. We’ll have you come in and do a test shoot to see if your incredible looks translate to the camera. Then we’ll go from there.”
From the corner of her eye, she saw her friends leave the dance floor and head up the stairs.
“I have to think about this. But I promise I’ll call you.”
The man rose from his chair. “I look forward to it.” He nodded at her friends. “Ladies. Have a pleasant evening.”
“Ohmigod,” Luz squeaked, leaning forward. “Who was that sex god and what did he want with you?”
Mia looked around, as if someone might hear her, although with the pounding of the music words didn’t carry very far.
“You are not going to believe what just happened. I’m going to need your help.”
Chapter Sixteen
Lindsey was glad that John had volunteered to drive on the way home. She couldn’t believe how exhausted she was, and she told him so.
“It’s mental,” he reminded her. “And that can be a lot more tiring than physical. You’ve had a very rough couple of days.”
“No kidding.” She leaned back against the seat and stretched her arms above her head.
“I’m sure I can figure out a way to relax you after we’re finished tonight.”
Images flashed through her mind and that damn pulse in her sex woke up and was soon so heavy she had to squeeze her thighs together. She hoped she could get through the work session without embarrassing herself.
“You two go ahead and set up and get started,” Taylor said as soon as they were at Lindsey’s. “Noah and I have some phone calls to return but we’ll join you as soon as we can.”
“No problem,” Lindsey assured them.
She fixed coffee for herself and John and they spread out their stuff on her dining room table. By unspoken agreement, they each pulled up the things they’d been working on and went at it. After a few minutes, Lindsey sat back in the chair, lifted her mug and took a sip of the cooling liquid.
“At least with this topic, I’m getting somewhere,” she told John.
He hit Save and slid his chair closer to her. “What did you find?”
“I know Charley Graham is working on this, and he’ll find a hell of a lot more than I will, but I wanted to get a picture for you and me. Whatever I find might help us connect the dots to Craig. I wasn’t sure which of the two men to start with so I typed both their names plus Craig’s in the Search bar. Then I checked whatever came up to see who was mentioned more times with Craig. It actually didn’t take that long. I found a bunch of items right away linking Craig with Frank Podesta. Take a look.”
She clicked slowly from screen to screen, bringing up mention after mention of Craig Wainwright and Frank Podesta supporting community initiatives. Hosting fundraisers with their wives. Creating joint business enterprises. Appearing at top society functions.
One particular page she enlarged and highlighted.
“Look here. See this? This is a personal piece on the Wainwrights and the Podestas when they co-hosted the fundraiser for St. Julian’s for the tenth year. It also mentions that Natalia Wainwright and Isobel Podesta are not only very close friends—they are both also from Colombia.”
“Colombia is certainly the heart and center of a great deal of illegal activity, especially drugs. That doesn’t mean either of these women are involved in it, although it tickles my brain.”
“Mine too. And if they are such good friends, how come Natalia didn’t call Isobel Podesta instead of me the night Craig was killed?”
John stared at the picture of the two couples on the computer screen.
“Good question. I’m also trying to trace the source of the money Natalia provided for Elite. I’m pretty close to that and some other things. A lot of money has passed through the shell corporations to offshore accounts. And I’ve just scratched the surface.” He pointed at her computer. “Now, with this new wrinkle, I’ll have to broaden my search.”
Lindsey stared at him. “John, what the hell are we looking at here? This is a lot more than just a spa that tries to hide itself.”
“No shit. I have a really bad feeling about this, Lindsey. And whatever it is, it’s obvious it started way before Elite.”
“I’ll bet Podesta’s shipping company is involved somehow. Don’t you think that’s a good possibility?”
“Shit.” John ran his fingers through his hair. “That’s not good.”
“Because?” she prompted.
“Because whatever they are hiding, whatever merchandise they might be dealing in, they have access to worldwide markets. You know how easy it is to hide drugs and guns in those big shipping containers? Double shit.”
“Listen.” She sat up straighter. “Someone had to set all of this up.”
“True,” he agreed. “You can’t, for example, just pick up the phone, call a terrorist leader in the Middle East and ask him how he’d like a bunch of guns shipped to him.”
Lindsey couldn’t help laughing. “No, I’d think not.” Then she sobered. “There has to be a way to find out if any of the people involved traveled overseas, to any of the key locations.”
“Let’s get Noah involved in this. He can get hold of Charley Graham in Tampa. Just like I can dig up numbers, Charley can ferret out information. He’s got unlimited contacts, and his contacts have contacts. He should be off the phone soon, I hope.”
“Taylor, also,” Lindsey added.
“And here’s Noah now,” John nodded at the man as he walked into the dining room.
Noah looked from one to the other. “What’s up?”
“Actually, I’d like both of you, please,” Lindsey told him. “This is important. Will Taylor be free soon?”
“I’m done for a while.” Taylor took the chair across from Lindsey. “What’s up?”
“Problem with someone or something?” Noah asked.
Before Lindsey could answer, her cell phone rang. She looked at the readout. “It’s Leda. I checked on everyone before I left and made sure I answered any questions, so let’s see what’s come up.” She hit Accept. “Yes, Leda? What’s going on? Please don’t tell me we’ve had another disaster.”
“No, just a message from Mrs. Wainwright I thought you should hear right away. She just called and asked me to let you all know that she’s leaving town tonight and will be gone for several weeks.”
“She’s what? She’s leaving? Just like that?”
“Yes. I wrote it all down,” Leda assured her. “She said she has to get away from everything. It’s too painful staying in that house. Too many memories of her husband and the dreadful accident. She sounded really upset and apologized for leaving the way she is. Didn’t know how long she’d be gone but she appreciated us understanding her need for this.”
Lindsey scowled. “I guess I can understand. Sort of. A death is bad enough but one like this really can mess you up. Still, she must have estate things to wrap up.
”
“She did leave the name and phone number of her attorney in case there are any legal things to handle. His name is Bryce Miranda. I’ll text you the phone number if you need it before you get back to the office.”
“Okay, thanks for updating me.” Lindsey disconnected the call then stared at the phone for a moment. “Well. That’s really weird.”
Taylor frowned. “What’s up?”
Lindsey repeated what Leda had told her. “Don’t you think it seems strange?” she asked the others.
“So she’s taking off.” Taylor shrugged. “Strange, but she’s free to do whatever she pleases.”
“What about the estate?” Lindsey asked. “When someone like Craig dies, even if it’s from natural causes, there’s a lot of red tape to settle things. And what about that big house? She’s just going to close it up and take off? Leave everything?”
“There really aren’t any legal things for her to handle with Elite,” Taylor reminded them, “because of the way the agreement is worded. But yes, there are always loose ends.”
“I still say it’s odd that she just picks up and leaves as if she’s going on a vacation.”
“Maybe it’s her way of dealing with her grief,” Taylor suggested.
“This is probably not very nice of me to say,” Lindsey said in a slow voice, “but I can’t help feeling, with everything else that’s come up, that Natalia Wainwright might have just been putting on an award-winning act as the loving wife and supporter of Elite. That there’s some underlying reason for this so-called trip.”
“You may be right. Are you familiar with her attorney? Bryce Miranda?”
She shook her head. “I can ask around, if you want.”
“I’ve heard of him,” Noah acknowledged. “He only handles seven-figure clients. I’d guess he was Natalia’s attorney first.”
“There could be another reason,” Taylor suggested. “Maybe someone’s threatened her and that’s why she’s hightailing it out of town. If Craig was for sure into all this nasty stuff, and one of his so-called friends killed him, she might think she’s next.”
“But why?” Lindsey looked around the table. “What’s going on here that we’re all missing?”
Noah pulled out his cell phone. “I know the police here are doing an excellent job but not fast enough for me. And this is probably not the only thing on their plates. I’m going to have Charley send a couple of people down here to start looking into everything. I also want him to put some people on Masquerade. I want to know everyone who goes in and out of there and what goes on after hours.”
“Good. I don’t care what it costs.” Taylor looked at her tablet, where she’d been making notes. “John. We need to ramp things up here and widen your search.”
“I take it you want me to dig into Craig Wainwright deeper and wider along with everything else.” He grinned. “My specialty.”
“Why don’t we order some food?” John suggested. “We didn’t stop on the way here to pick anything up and I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m getting hungry.”
* * * *
For the second night in a row, they sat around Lindsey’s dining room table, and, while they ate, dissected the little bit of conversation Lindsey had overheard. Then they went piece by piece through everything she and John had found online.
“This is like one of those balls of twine,” she mused. “You pull one end of a string and the whole ball unravels into a real mess. Okay. You know that Charley Graham is on this. Whatever there is to find, about Craig, Podesta and Merriam, if anyone can dig it out, he can. I also added the name of our so-called host on Parrot Cay. I want to know everything about him and that island, up to and including how many trees grow there and how many moles on his body.”
“I know I keep repeating myself,” Taylor said, “but it still bothers me that the firm I use didn’t find out any of this stuff about Craig.”
“Like I told you,” Noah reminded her, “they were looking for different things. And exotic location shoots under normal circumstances don’t ring any warning bells.”
“He’s right,” John agreed. “They found records that showed Craig sold his earlier businesses. They didn’t look any further because there weren’t any red flags attached to the deals. They wouldn’t have thought to check what happened to those businesses and learn that Craig still had his fingers in them.”
“Or wonder why he thought it necessary to bury everything under so many layers. How far have you gotten with the money trail?”
John woke up his tablet, where he’d made notes as he’d gone along.
“Okay. I’m working backwards here, because I don’t know where the original starting place is. I’ve gotten as far back as ten years before the inception of Elite. At that time Craig was a part owner of Top Shelf Advertising with George Merriam and Frank Podesta. Right about then he met and married Natalia, who gave him the money to buy out his two partners and Elite was born. They expanded their clientele, added more high-end clients and the revenue increased a lot.”
Lindsey took a sip of water. “I’d like to know where Natalia came from. How did they meet? Why did she want to spend that money so Craig could have his own company? I’ll never believe she was so altruistic she just wanted to, in effect, buy him a business. And where did he get the money to start Top Shelf with those two men?”
John put his now empty plate aside, opened his laptop and booted it up. In seconds he was typing, his fingers flying over the keys, nodding at whatever he was looking at.
“Okay, here it is. Top Shelf was funded with money from a company called Litton Industries.” He looked around the table at everyone. “Incorporated in Delaware. Big surprise, right?”
“Was Natalia part of Litton?” Noah asked.
“Her name doesn’t appear on the incorporation papers, only the names of the attorneys who drew it up. That’s not unusual. But then I found more than one transfer from a company called Galaxy Investments to an offshore account and from there to another Delaware corporation, then to Litton and finally into a trust fund for her.”
“Damn.” Taylor shook her head. “A lot of work to hide the source of the money.”
John nodded. “Indeed. All Natalia’s visible money comes from the trust, which she tells people is set up by her family in Colombia. A way for them to get their money out of the country and the government’s hands. So she says.”
“So when we did our due diligence,” Taylor said, “all we would have found was the so-called family trust, the direct line to Natalia’s bank account and from there to Elite.”
Lindsey closed her eyes for a moment. “I feel as if I really didn’t know the man at all. As if the whole time he was playing some kind of part, and the real Craig Wainwright existed outside these offices. Why didn’t I see it? I’m supposed to be such a good judge of character.”
“I think that’s on me even more than you,” Taylor pointed out.
Lindsey just shook her head. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to trust my judgment anymore. What if he hadn’t been killed? What if we hadn’t discovered the anomaly regarding Masquerade? What if—”
John reached over and pressed two fingers to her lips. “I repeat. Don’t beat yourself up about this.”
“John’s right,” Noah added. “And, Taylor? You did your due diligence. It came back clean. We didn’t know how much dirt it was hiding, so let’s move forward and see if we can fix this thing. What’s next, John?”
“I’m looking for Litton’s money trail. Where did the funds come from to set it up? Where else did they go besides Natalia’s trust fund? And where else was Craig getting money?”
Taylor pushed her plate away, forehead creased in thought. “Can you get into Masquerade’s bank account?”
John laughed. “Are you kidding? I can get into anyone’s bank account. Haven’t you ever gotten a notice from your bank that your account’s been compromised? There are hackers all over the planet who have designed algorithms to crack pass
words and get into accounts. It’s much easier than you think.”
Taylor just shook her head. “One of the first things I’m going to do tomorrow is call Liam Benedict and have him create hackproof passwords for our bank accounts and financial records. And write new proprietary security software for Arroyo. Good lord!”
John just shrugged. “You’ve seen me do this before, Taylor. It’s nothing new.”
“Yes, but always before you’ve started with more specific information than we gave you this time. And you knew all the people involved.”
“Yes,” he agreed, “this is a little more complex.” He grinned. “But not unbeatable. I like a challenge. Just as long as you promise to bail me out of jail.”
“No jail time,” Taylor assured him. “All of this relates to the corporation. The suits have us covered.” She sighed, something she almost never did. “John, you know how important it is to follow the money trail. And it seems, in this particular situation, there are a lot of trails.”
“Yes. I’m also going to see what I can find about Podesta and Merriam and if their finances and Craig’s cross in any way.”
Lindsey cocked an eyebrow. “You think whatever this is, they’re all in it together?”
“I do,” Taylor interjected. “I have the sick feeling that whatever is going on goes far beyond Masquerade, although it might start there. That whatever the spa is part of is only part of the bigger picture. If we only had some clue what it is they’re hiding.”
“I can do something there,” Noah told her. “We funded those scholarships for children of active police officers—I think the commissioner might do me a favor or two.”
“You think he would? And not say anything to anyone?”
“I think if he has a chance to clean up a dirty mess in his own back yard he’ll probably jump on it. I’ll call him first thing in the morning.”
“Thank you. I have to protect Arroyo, even if it means closing Elite completely and reopening in a different set of circumstances.”
Lindsey stared at her. “You’d do that?”
“And more, to protect Arroyo. You know that.”
