by Sims, R.
***
At the state prison in Scranton, Pennsylvania, Troy Epps entered one of the small attorney-conference rooms. He was dressed in blue Khakis and had his hair styled in eight thick braids running front to back. He studied the white man and the younger white woman who had been waiting for him at a conference table that had some of his property spread over it.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Epps,” Agent Laura Frey said. “Have a seat. We won’t take up much of your time.”
Troy pulled up a chair. “I got three years left. I insist you take up all of my time.”
“You have any idea why we’re here?” Special Agent Phillip Walters asked.
“Yep. The guards tore my cell up this morning and took some books, and the lieutenant was asking me all kinds of questions about Eric and Dex. This has to be about that big scam out in Cali.”
Phillip nodded. “We understand you were Dexter Parker’s cellmate for the last two years of his incarceration.”
“I was, and if you’re looking for information on him, what do I get out of the deal? Can you knock these three years off?”
Phillip said, “That won’t happen. The best I can do is put fifty dollars on your books when I leave here, give you something to gamble with.”
Troy wasn’t surprised that the cop would know of his gambling habits in prison. He looked at the lady cop and said, “You gonna match his fifty or what?”
Laura glanced at Phillip and said, “Yeah. Why not? But only if we believe you’ve been helpful.”
“What are you two, FBI?”
“Yes. I’m Special Agent Phillip Walters, and she’s Agent Laura Frey.”
“Okay. That’s a hundred measly dollars, just enough to fuck up in a few hands of poker. Try this: I’m charging ten dollars per question, so you better pick ten good ones or be ready to add more to my account.”
Without wasting any more time, Phillip said, “Prison library records show that Dexter was studying business and finance.” He picked up a book from the table. “Trick of the Parallel is psychology. Was he interested in psychology in his spare time?”
“No. You got it all backwards.” Troy began laughing.
CHAPTER 22
Troy finally said, “He studied business and finance in his spare time; he studied psychology as if his life depended on it. Dex is probably the smartest muthafucka I ever met…Wait a minute! Phillip Walters? The super cop for the Feds?”
Laura looked at her partner.
“Man, listen, there’s a lot of convicts in here that respect the hell out of you, and some of them are straight-up scared of you. I’ve heard them say, ‘Man, I don’t want that muthafucka on no case of mine.’” He shook his head with disbelief. “You’re probably worth $200,000 a year. I should have charged you twenty dollars per question.”
“All right. Lets’ get back to Dexter,” Phillip said. “You were saying he’s the smartest you’ve…”
“Yeah. Study, study, study. That’s all he did. Oh, and ran on the track four days a week. I heard a lot about you, but you can’t fuck with Dex. I saw in the paper where — no, that was Time Magazine. That woman named Sherri said Dex was Eric’s business manager. Man, everybody in prison was laughing at that shit. A manager? We know Dex set the whole damn scheme up. Managers get, what, ten, fifteen percent? I bet you Dex got the whole three billion dollars and hung Eric’s horny ass out to dry.”
Laura said, “Tell us about Dexter and Eric’s relationship,” careful not to style it as a question.
“They were cool with everybody but only hung out with each other, at least since I’ve been here. Dex stayed on Eric’s ass about studying that computer shit. He used to tell me how Eric was gonna be a fuckup because all he was interested in was women.”
Laura said, “Doesn’t sound like Dexter had much faith in Eric, certainly not enough for a scam that involves billions of dollars.”
“He told me how nice Eric was with that computer shit, a technological monster. But Eric didn’t know a damn thing else. Dex knows some of every goddamn thing. Eric needed Dex but Dex didn’t need him.”
Phillip said, “I suppose the psychology book was to help him learn how to dupe people.” That was not a question but would likely get a response.
“What else would it be for? I wouldn’t be surprised if Dex done duped somebody else out of millions that you don’t even know about yet.” Troy scratched between two braids. “Shit, I put him up on this forgery trick I learned, and he probably did something with that before he hit the big scam.”
Laura didn’t know if her digital voice recorder was going to be able to store everything Troy had to offer.
“The Feds will catch pure hell trying to get something solid on Dex, and I can already see the problem. You’re white, so you can’t see a black dude shitting on you like a mastermind. It’s gonna be hard for you to believe you’re fuckin with one. The boy studied too much.”
Phillip nodded and said, “We’ve been warned, so we’d be fools to underestimate him.”
Troy smiled. “You’re saying that, but I bet he’ll end up tricking the shit out of you.” He appeared to be contemplating for a few seconds. “Auto …Autodidactic. That’s his word. Dex studied human behavior and he knows why you do what you do. You don’t think he knew the Feds would come talk to me, his ex-cellmate?”
Laura said, “You sound as if you’re suggesting that he was planning so far ahead, he knew your cell would be shaken down for information about his crime.” And that still wasn’t a question.
“Why do you think he left me the psychology books, Internet research, and four folders of photocopied documents? I don’t study that shit. He wanted me to save it until you guys came for it.” He smiled again, more like a grin.
No response.
“And with your unlimited resources, you’re trying not to ask those ten-dollar questions.” Troy laughed. “How much do you think Dex paid me to tell you guys everything you want to know?”
CHAPTER 23
Bounty hunter Patricia Teague waited at the front door of an apartment in Baltimore, Maryland. The neighborhood, she could tell, was not the friendliest or safest, hence the shoulder holstered Glock 9 mm handgun underneath her leather coat. So far, she’d only seen Blacks in the area; the woman she was looking for was white. This made her unsure about the address.
The apartment door was opened and a white woman appeared in a wheelchair. She was an attractive double-amputee with curlers in her rich black hair. “Let me guess: You’re selling insurance but my handicap changes everything now.”
Patricia smiled. “I’m not an insurance agent.” She produced some ID and credentials. “I’m Agent Kimberly Preston, FBI. I’m looking for Geneva Lansing.”
“Oh. Just one moment.” The woman spun her wheelchair around a full three-sixty. “Now that you’ve found me, what is this all about?”
Patricia’s eyebrows squinted with confusion. “You’re Geneva Lansing?”
“Well, if I ain’t I’ve had thirty-three years of practice.”
Patricia understood now. She had tracked Geneva Lansing here using the social security number and birth date that Sherri Peters had accessed from an online data storage service used by Kevin. This lady was obviously a victim of identity fraud. Patricia had studied the fake Geneva on a DVD recording of the Herbyte Presentation.
“You wanna come in? You’re letting my heat out.” She wheeled herself away from the door.
The place could stand a good cleaning, which would possibly get rid of the musky odor. Patricia glanced at the mismatch living room set. “You mind if I ask you a few questions about some people who may have stolen your personal information?”
“Mine? My credit’s no good.” She gestured toward an armchair. “Have a seat. Can I get you anything? I got beer, tea, and water. Not the bottled water.”
“A beer sounds fine. Thank you.”
Geneva rolled off toward the kitchen but still kept talking. “So why would someone wanna be me?”
/> Patricia heard the faint sounds of laughter. It was from a television in another room. “My guess is that someone knows you’re either not likely to report it or not likely to find out. Have you heard of the Herbyte Investment Scandal?”
“Doesn’t sound familiar. What is it?”
“It was a scam concerning a computer invention. Happened out in California.”
Geneva wheeled herself back to the living room, two beers on her lap. “Is that the scheme that involved $3 billion? I did hear about that one the other day.” She gave her guest a can of Budweiser then popped the tab on the other and took a sip.
“Yeah, well, the people who got away with all that money apparently paid someone to portray you in the crime.” Patricia popped the tab on her beer and took a long swig. It was good and cold. “Do you now a white guy by the name of Eric Adkins?”
“Never heard of him.”
“How about a black guy named Dexter Parker?”
“Unh-unh.”
“They were both recently released from prison in Scranton, Pennsylvania. I believe one of them knows someone who knows you,” Patricia said then drank more beer.
Geneva stared at the overweight woman, “Has the name Troy Epps come up in your investigation?”
“No. Who is he?”
“He’s a black guy in a Scranton prison. I’ve been sort of seeing him for about a year now. We started as pen pals, and at first I didn’t want him to know that I was a handicap.”
Patricia was interested. This was going to lead to something solid.
“When I found out that my handicap didn’t bother him, the relationship became more serious. I’ve been visiting him, sending money whenever I can, and accepting phone calls from him until I couldn’t afford the bill.”
“And I suppose you were going to be his wife as soon as he got released.”
Geneva drained more of her beer. “Lucky me, huh?”
“You got any letters from Troy that you might have kept?”
“Sure. I got every letter he ever wrote to me.”
CHAPTER 24
Phillip and Laura were traveling on the interstate in a black Dodge Magnum. They had just left the prison in Scranton after having interviewed three inmates there. Still, though, Troy had been their most intriguing subject.
As she drove, Laura said, “So, do you really think Dexter paid Epps to feed us that information?”
“Of course he did. What worries me is the fact that Dexter wanted us to know anything at all.”
“Sounds like he wants to toy with us, the Catch-me-if-you-can Syndrome.”
Phillip shook his head, disagreeing. “He wants our help, wants us to screw the investigation up so that he can get off scot-free somehow. No, I don’t think he’s toying with us. He’s trying to steer our investigation off a cliff. He’s obviously very intelligent, so we have to be skeptical of any evidence he gives us or allows us to find.”
A cell phone rang.
Phillip produced a phone from his inner jacket pocket. He looked at the display then answered the phone. “Branzworth, what do you have?”
Heather Branzworth was an IRS agent. She said, “I have the information you requested. I believe it’s both good and bad; you’re going to have to figure out which is which.”
He said, “I’m up for the task. Let’s hear it.”
“Last Friday at approximately 1:09 pm, Dexter Parker purchased a new Hyundai Genesis G90 luxury sedan with $70,000 cash. Place of purchase: A Hyundai dealership in Sacramento, California,” Heather said.
“All right. That was a silly thing to do. Maybe I gave him too much credit.” He looked over at Laura as she continued driving.
Heather said, “But there’s more. At approximately 3:15 pm, Mr. Parker put $250,000 cash down on a home in Talladega, Alabama. And at approximately 4:10 pm, in the state of North Carolina, he opened a bank account with a deposit of $50,000 cash.”
Phillip said, “Wait a second. All of this took place this past Friday?”
“That’s correct. You’re starting to get the picture. Can you see the unique problem with those transactions?”
Phillip said, “It sounds like you’re telling me that Dexter was in three different states at the same hour, obviously making transactions that require his signature.”
Heather said, “And that’s not the first time he’s been everywhere at the same time. Although he was released from prison on January the eleventh this year, records show that he was living in Philadelphia all last year and was employed at a McDonald’s there. Cashed all of his checks and filed taxes, too.”
Laura was glancing at Phillip every few seconds now, wondering what he’d learned about Dexter.
Phillip smiled at the thought of Dexter being ubiquitous. The real problem, however, was that his suspect was strategically reinventing himself as a victim of identity fraud.
CHAPTER 25
At sunset, Dexter and Dana sat facing one another at a two-party table in a romantic, upscale restaurant in Los Angeles. Dinner was over and Dana spooned red velvet ice cream while Dexter watched.
She smiled and said, “So you’re a health nut who never eats junk food, not even ice cream?”
“I didn’t say that. I eat junk food from time to time, whenever I’m stressing. I don’t stress much; it’s all in the mind.”
“I don’t believe that,” she said. “I don’t think you have major control over your capacity to stress. Or not. Did you learn that in your studies of psychology?”
He said, “We’ve been here for forty-three minutes. Have I done anything during this date that would…indicate I’m stressing?”
“No, you haven’t, but that doesn’t prove anything.”
Dexter retrieved a phone from his shirt pocket, opened his messages, then pushed the device across the table to her. “FBI Agent Kimberly Preston is investigating me, particularly my role in the investment scandal. Read the message sent by my personal investigator just minutes before I arrived to pick you up for our date.”
Dana pushed her ice cream aside and picked up the phone.
Dexter, the FBI does not have an agent by the name of Kimberly Preston. The name is obviously a phony. Somebody else is interested in you. I’m digging. 60/40.
Dana looked up and said, “What does 60/40 mean?”
“That’s my investigator’s code name. He’s Stan Ferguson, a private eye with many connections. I’m told that he has resources ranging from hackers to at least one military official. His office is in New Jersey, but he’ll work anywhere in the country for the right price.”
Dana passed the phone back to him. “Well, who do you think this Kimberly person really is? What could she want?”
“I actually don’t know, but I’m not stressing over it and that’s my point. To be sure, something may stress me later…”
“Why me?” she asked, changing the subject. “You could have hired any high-profile defense team in the country. Why me?”
He smiled. “Because you are exceedingly beautiful.”
“Thank you. I appreciate the compliment, but your answer is bullshit. You and I both know that no jury would give a damn about any beauty you see in me. Now, stop selling commercials and tell me why you chose me.”
He said, “Selling commercials? I like that one.” He stalled a few seconds more. “Look, a few years ago, there was a white guy in prison named Richie Olson. He was a cool enough guy but said he couldn’t see himself dating or marrying outside his race. Eric pressed him on this and Richie finally said he would consider dating a black lawyer in California named Dana Searing.”
She was staring at her ice cream, which was melting slowly.
“He was living in California ten years ago when you were court-appointed to him for a guilty plea on a charge of grand larceny. He said his was your second or third case since you’d received your license.”
“Sounds familiar. I can’t put a face to him, though.”
“I’ve been wanting to meet you ever since Richie
admitted this to Eric. I learned enough about you and your husband more than two years ago. I hired an investigator — not 60/40, though— to find out a few things about you.”
CHAPTER 26
She leaned back in her seat and folded her arms below her breasts. “Should I be impressed, flattered, or offended? Isn’t that an invasion?”
He said, “Depends on how much of the information gathered was already in the public domain.”
She puckered her lips and nodded her head as if he had won that round. “Let me try this again. And don’t give me that line about my looks. This is about your freedom. Why did you choose me? What makes you think I can handle a big case? I never have before.”
Dexter leaned forward, both elbows on the table, fingers laced. “You’re beautiful, and I really don’t care that you don’t want to hear that. I haven’t been in a relationship in ten years; I’ll be thirty-six next month and am not even a father yet. I picked you because I imagined you also being my woman. I want a woman who is educated and who will stand by me even when I am wrong. I also want her to have my first child.”
Dana’s left eyebrow went up. “I suppose I’m the first person on your list. Is that what you’re telling me?”
Dexter shook his head, frankly. “You are not. The Pennsylvania lawyer whom I was telling you about earlier, Janet Ingram, she turned me down for ethical reasons. She was my first choice. She’s not serious about her ethical grounds, so the rejection was just a game.”
Dana displayed a smile, clearly a sarcastic one. “I’m already thirty-six, so should I just hurry up and sleep with you before I’m too old to have your son?”
“Hey, you wanted the truth. That’s not, as you put it, selling commercials. And, for the record, it makes no difference whether you have my son or daughter.”
She just stared at him, contemptuously. “You obviously think wealth allows you to come off this way. You’re an attractive man, very attractive. I think you’re smart — probably too smart for your own good — and you can be charming when you want…” She stopped when she saw him smiling.
