As I settled in for the broadcast, I wondered what Celia had against Nuala. She drove an expensive car and wore pricey clothes, but so did a lot of people
CHAPTER TWENTY
On Monday morning, I found Soupy perched on the reception desk entertaining Ivy with the highlights of Saturday night at the Legion.
“I couldn’t make it on Saturday,” she told me. “Had to stay home with my little brother.”
“Nuala in yet?” I asked.
“She’s on the phone in her office,” Soupy said.
He turned back to Ivy. “Two bikers showed up.”
A shadow passed across Ivy’s face. Soupy gave a slight nod. Those bikers had everyone worried.
An hour later, I went into Soupy’s office and closed the door behind me.
He looked concerned. “Is something wrong? One of my accounts?”
“You’re doing fine.” I slid into the chair in front of his desk. “I want to understand this community better. I hope you can fill me in on a few things.”
He eyed me warily. “If I can.”
“The bikers you mentioned. Was one of them wearing a leather vest with silver studs on Saturday night? Tattoos on his arms?”
“Yeah.”
“He asked about Ruby. Those guys aren’t from around here, are they?”
He shook his head.
I waited for him to tell me what he knew about them. When it looked like he wasn’t about to, I continued. “Mara probably told you I’ve been out to Al and Ruby’s place. Have these guys got wind of what goes on there?”
He gave a curt nod. “They’ve been sniffing around for the past few weeks. We think they’re members of the Dead Riders, though they haven’t been wearing their colors. Al’s tried to scare them off with her rifle.”
I frowned at the thought of Al and her rifle. “They want in on the action.”
“Yeah.”
I wondered if this was what Jamie was checking out.
“Saturday night was the first time they came out to a social event,” Soupy said. “We were afraid there’d be trouble, but Dad talked them into leaving.”
“Your father must be persuasive.”
Soupy smiled. “He can be.”
“Tell me something. Everyone knows about the grow-op but turns a blind eye to it. Why?”
His smile faded. “What does it matter?”
“For starters, it’s illegal. Al and Ruby could be looking at a big fine or jail time. And now there are these bikers. They mean trouble.”
He sat stone-faced.
Keith Kulas would have been ranting about what it meant to the branch by this time. “And it could mean trouble for this branch.”
Soupy blinked in disbelief. “What?”
“Its integrity could come into question.”
“How?”
“Marijuana is a multi-billion-dollar cash crop,” I said. “I don’t think Al and Ruby are making billions, but I bet they make thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands of dollars every year. They have to deposit their money somewhere. If it’s here, that will invite police scrutiny. Head office wants our branches to be squeaky-clean.”
“Well, on that score, you don’t have to worry,” Soupy said. “They don’t have an account here.”
“They may yet. We’ve been open less than a week. If their operation has attracted the bikers’ attention, it’s only a matter of time before the police—not Bouchard—start investigating.” I paused. “Fill me in.”
He hesitated. “You can’t go to the cops with this.”
I just looked at him. “Al and Jennifer Collins were an item when Jen lived up here. Was Jen part of the operation?”
He shook his head. “No. Jen won a scholarship to university. She’s been gone for years.”
“So Al turned to Ruby?”
“Yup. Ruby was going through a rough patch of her own. Her dad died in a logging accident, and Ruby and her mom tried to make a go of their farm.” He paused, seeing the puzzled look on my face. “The farm belongs to Ruby”
“Okay.”
“Anyway, Ruby invited Al to live with her and her mother on the farm. Then—”
“Hold on,” I said. “Ruby’s mother was in on the grow-op?”
“I’m talking about before the grow-op.” He paused. “Ruby’s mother—Norma Taylor—needed both girls to help out on the farm. Al and Ruby agreed, but it was a real struggle. Land around here isn’t great for farming.
“Then Norma got sick with cancer. She was real sick with the chemo treatments, and Ruby told her that smoking pot would help. But she wouldn’t hear of it.
“Norma was a heavy smoker—something she wouldn’t give up—and she rolled her own cigarettes. One day, Ruby slipped some pot into the tobacco, and it helped Norma with the nausea. When Ruby told Norma what she’d done, she was furious at first but she gave in. And Ruby and Al started to grow their own.”
“Couldn’t they have got a government okay for medical marijuana?” Canadian laws governing cannabis were much tighter a few years ago than they are now. Cancer patients had to apply to the government to purchase marijuana from approved producers.
“Ruby figured getting approvals would take too long.” He paused. “She was right. Norma died a year later.”
“How do you know all this?”
“Everyone around here knows what Ruby did to help her mom.”
“Go on.”
“Folks started going to Ruby and Al when someone had cancer or arthritis pain. Stuff like that.”
“Their business isn’t just about medicinal marijuana,” I said.
“That’s right. Ruby and Al saw their chance to make some money.”
“And nobody blew the whistle?”
“Marijuana is now legal in Canada.”
“But its sale and distribution are strictly regulated,” I said. The women could face steep fines for their illegal dispensary.
“Al and Ruby let it be known that they wouldn’t sell to anyone underage. People around here respected that.”
My mind was clicking away. “Underage meaning what?”
“Meaning they won’t sell to you unless you’ve reached legal drinking age.”
“Nineteen,” I said.
He nodded. “Al and Ruby grew up here. They know this community.”
“What about cottagers?”
“If Al and Ruby know them. Otherwise…” He smiled.
“Do they do business elsewhere?”
“Probably, but we don’t ask. It’s none of our business.”
I needed to think. “Thanks for filling me in.” I hesitated at the office door. “What do you think will happen…with the bikers?”
“I don’t know.” His brow creased.
I nodded. It looked like Al and Ruby’s business was running on borrowed time.
In my office, I printed out a client portfolio that Monty Buchanan had sent me from Toronto, but my thoughts kept returning to the bikers. Had Lyle told Jamie that a biker gang was threatening the grow-op? But what stake could he have had in Al and Ruby’s operation?
At eleven-thirty, I drove over to the Winigami and had lunch with the president of Braeloch College. I suggested that we organize a series of financial planning seminars for faculty members and support staff. He seemed interested. When we’d said our goodbyes, I headed for the parking lot where I found Al Barker seated in her pickup beside my Volvo. I wondered if she had her rifle with her, but when she got out of the truck her hands were empty.
“Afternoon.” She leaned back on the truck.
I nodded.
“Got a favor to ask.”
I waited for her to go on.
“Ruby and me want you folks to cool it. You been out to our place three times now. And this morning your friend Gavin Ridout turned up.”
She probably scared the poor teacher off with her gun. “I’ve met Gavin once,” I said. “I’d hardly call him a friend.”
“If you say so, Miz Tierney. But these visits gotta stop. Ruby
gave Tracy a message the other night.”
“Jamie’s working on something and let her get on with it,” I recited.
She locked eyes with me. “Bad guys been comin’ to our place. Wouldn’t want you caught in the crossfire.”
That said, she jumped into the truck and roared away.
It had started to snow again. I was wiping snow off my windshield when Foster pulled up beside me.
“What are you doing here?” he asked as he got out of his car.
“Business,” I told him. “I’ve been pitching our services to Braeloch College. Any luck with tire marks at the park?”
He shook his head. “Several snowmobiles went through there on Sunday morning. All we could see were snowmobile tracks.”
“And the prints on our deck?”
“No joy there, either. It was mild yesterday, and the snow on top of them bled through.”
“The glass doors to the deck?”
“Nothing. Your visitor either wore gloves or was careful about what he touched.”
He needed to know that Al and Ruby were helping Jamie, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell him that.
He seemed to read my thoughts. “Something you want to tell me?”
I met his eyes. “No,” I lied.
On the drive back to Braeloch, I wondered why Gavin had stopped by the grow-op. He spent his summers in the area so he would know about the operation. But Al had been surprised by his visit, so he wasn’t a client.
And Gavin was a high-school teacher. Winter break was over and he should have been back in the classroom.
I parked in the lot behind the branch. I walked around to the front of the building where I found Lainey coming down the front walk.
She smiled when she saw me. “Just dropped off a folder for Paul. He forgot it when he came over last night.”
Ted Stohl rounded the street corner and walked briskly toward us, a smile on his face. “Hello, ladies.”
“Hi, Ted,” I replied, and we stepped aside to let him pass. He climbed the front steps and went into the branch. Lainey watched him with a troubled look on her face.
I remembered the photo on Lyle’s mantle. Lainey, Ted and Lyle had been friends when they were younger. “Must be nice for you to have Ted here again,” I said. “What brought him back to Braeloch?”
She gave me a tight smile. “He found himself at loose ends when he retired from the Toronto newspaper. The Times was up for sale, and he bought it. Last year, Bruce turned up here. We hadn’t seen him since he was a baby.”
“They never came back for a visit?”
“Ted’s parents had died, and Vi’s mother went down to Toronto with them.” She held out her hands. “You know how it is. We were all raising families. I called Vi one time when I was in the city. I’d hoped to meet her for lunch but she was busy.”
“Bruce moved here to be near his father.”
“To be near his mother. Vi’s in Highland Ridge.” She gave me a sidelong look. “Bruce and Ted don’t get along.”
“Our kids don’t always turn out the way we’d like. That can be difficult to accept.” I gave her a parting smile and headed up the stairs.
Inside, Soupy’s office was empty and Nuala’s door was closed.
“Soupy’s visiting a prospect,” Ivy told me. “Bea Greeley and Ted Stohl are with Nuala.”
An hour later, I’d finished compiling the list of businesses that we could approach. I heard voices in the hall, and Ted poked his head around my doorframe.
“Have a good session?” I asked.
“It was interesting.” He sat down in the chair across from me. “The Times plans to run a series on fraud next month. We’ll start with an article on repair men who take large deposits and never finish the work. Then we want to do something on investment fraud. Any suggestions on how we can approach that?”
Jamie Collins was the first name that came to mind. She had secured the landmark judgment on behalf of Betsy Cornell. But she was lying low for the moment.
“Start with IIROC. That’s short for the Investment Industry Regulatory Organization of Canada. It oversees all the investment dealers in the country. Frank Cardone in Toronto is its head of regulation. He’ll give you an overview of investment fraud, and he’ll probably point you to other sources as well.”
Nuala and Bea appeared at my door. “Ready, Ted?” Bea asked.
Ted nodded at me and stood up. He hadn’t written down the names I’d given him.
When Ted and Bea had gone, Nuala came into my office.
“Well?” I asked.
She took the chair Ted had just vacated. “Ted questions every move I make on Bea’s portfolio. What’s the point of having an investment manager?”
“He’s a journalist. He wants to understand what you’re doing. Explain why you’re putting Bea into different holdings. Considering her age, they’re probably pretty conservative and you can talk about that. And don’t forget that Ted can steer business our way.”
She didn’t seem convinced, but she changed the subject. “Has Jamie turned up?”
“Not that I’ve heard.”
“Do you think she’s looking into what Lyle told her in that letter?”
I stared at her, surprised that she knew about the letter. Then I remembered Laura had talked about it when she dropped by the office.
“She might be,” I said.
Ivy left early for a doctor’s appointment. Nuala and I were the only ones in the building when five o’clock rolled around.
I put on my coat and stopped at her door. She was poring over spreadsheets on her desk. “Time to the call it a day,” I said. “Grab your coat and I’ll lock up.”
She looked up, startled. “I got caught up in all of this…” She waved her hand to indicate the papers on the desk and the computer.
“You put in long hours, Nuala. Ivy says you’re usually here when she leaves.” I glanced down at the paperwork on her desk. “This can wait until morning. You don’t have to worry about scoring more brownie points with me.”
“I want to check something with Soupy. I’ll wait till he gets back.”
“He won’t be back today. He told Ivy his prospect lives an hour from town. Let’s go.”
She hesitated. “Well…”
“I insist.”
She sighed. “Okay.” She scooped the papers into her briefcase and got her coat.
I watched her Lexus pull out of the parking lot before I headed off in the opposite direction. But Nuala’s dedicated-employee act bothered me. I drove down Main Street, waited five minutes outside the Catholic church and returned to the branch. The Lexus was back in its parking spot and a light was on in Soupy’s office. I parked farther up Main and walked to the branch.
The front door was locked. I let myself in as quietly as I could and slipped off my boots.
Nuala’s front office was dark. The only light in the building came from Soupy’s office, the next room down the hall. I crept as close as I dared to the door and saw Nuala crouched behind Soupy’s computer. She seemed to be fiddling with the wiring at the back.
Then she stood and looked down at the computer with a smug smile on her face. She pulled something off her hands. Latex gloves, the kind you can buy at any hardware store.
I returned to the reception area where I stood in the shadows at the back of the room and waited for her to leave.
A few minutes later, she turned off the light in the office. The building was in darkness until the hall light came on. Then that clicked off and I heard the front door close.
Beeping sounded. I had thirty seconds to deactivate the security alarm. In the darkness, I groped my way to the keypad on the hall wall, where flashing red lights provided enough illumination to see the buttons. I punched in the code. The beeping stopped and a green light came on. I exhaled in relief.
I made my way along the darkened hallway to my office at the back of building. A glance out the window told me that Nuala’s Lexus had left the parking lot. I hea
ded for Soupy’s office and turned on the light.
I’m no techie and I couldn’t see anything amiss at the back of his computer. All the wires looked intact, and the keyboard, mouse, monitor and tower were all connected. What was I missing?
In my office, I studied the arrangement of the wiring at the back of my computer. I grabbed a notepad, sketched a quick diagram of the hookup and returned to Soupy’s desk.
I compared my diagram and his computer hookup. They looked the same…except where the keyboard plugged into the tower. The connection appeared to be a tad longer than on my PC. Not something that would be easily noticed.
I disconnected the keyboard and examined the plug. I tugged on the wired end and I was left holding what appeared to be a small memory stick or adapter, maybe two inches in length. I turned it over in my hand. The keyboard could be connected to the tower without it, so what did it do?
I reconnected Soupy’s keyboard to its tower and returned to my office. I deposited the adapter—or whatever it was—in my desk drawer and locked it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
I came home to an empty house, and found no sign that Farah had given any thought to dinner. I assumed that she and Tommy were out with Kerry, but I decided to go easy on her. I was relying her to look after Tommy.
I had lasagna defrosting in the microwave when Farah and Tommy came in. Tommy ran over to give me a hug.
I took him in my arms. “Have fun today?”
“You bet! I rode on Kerry’s snowmobile.”
I looked at Farah, and saw that she was wearing jeans and a heavy sweater instead of the skirts she usually favored. “You went out on the snowmobile too?” I asked.
She smiled and began to laugh. “It is very scary. The ice, I think it will open. But I…”
She didn’t want to let Kerry out of her sight.
“He is nice man, Kerry. He has nice house.”
She was smiling when she went upstairs to change. I knew she would be with us a while longer.
Celia got in soon after that and we sat down to dinner. We had just finished washing up when we heard hammering on the front door.
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