by Dani April
The woman’s name was Barbara Kincaid. She had e-mailed, written to, and faxed Rebecca bits and pieces of a very troubling story. Then Rebecca had coaxed her to start calling her and talking over the phone, and she would call Rebecca at all hours of the night in a cloak-and-dagger fashion. The woman was credible because she was a well-thought-of professional and had inside knowledge of what was happening at Black Creek Oil.
The story Barbara Kincaid told about Black Creek painted a picture of fraud. Their fraud operated on several levels. First they had faked the geological reports concerning the oil fields they owned. The ground was dry and contained no oil. But they used the fraudulent reports to borrow millions from banks and then, when they went public, tens of millions more from average investors across the country. They had also gotten the government to subsidize their drilling efforts on the dry oil fields. Almost half of both the government and public funds were being siphoned off to private offshore accounts by a handful of Black Creek Oil’s top executives. They had a plan in place to declare bankruptcy within the next two years and announce to the public that they were sitting on worthless oil fields. By the time they made this announcement, each executive’s private account would have grown by tens of millions of dollars. So even though Black Creek Oil would be broke as a corporation at that time, each of the executives would have made a personal fortune. They would have made the money, not by the industry of their company, but by committing fraud on the taxpayers and their own investors.
The meeting with the accountant was to be at a popular after-hours establishment for upscale professional people. It was a bar and restaurant that Rebecca and the other reporters from her network often hopped into after their workday was finished for a quick drink and light conversation. At the time of the evening the meeting was scheduled for, it would be crowded, providing for good cover in case they needed it.
Rebecca had never met in person with the accountant, but knew what she looked like from the intense research she had conducted on her in the past several months.
When Rebecca walked into the bar, it was five minutes ahead of schedule. As expected, the place was packed. Some music was playing over the speakers in the wall. A sporting event was being televised on one of the giant screen TVs mounted on the wall. The room was filled with easy-flowing conversation and laughter. People who had just finished another workday were kicking back and taking it easy.
Making her way through the crowded room, Rebecca spotted Barbara Kincaid sitting by herself at a table in the corner. She was nursing a wine spritzer and had her head held down, staring at the napkin on the table in front of her. The woman was making herself conspicuous by the act of trying to blend in with the rest of the crowd.
“I’m Rebecca Everheart.” Rebecca held out her hand to the accountant.
The other woman ignored her gesture and looked past her over her shoulder. She was a timid woman with a frightened look on her face. Rebecca recognized the type and knew this woman was in way over her head.
“May I sit down?” Rebecca asked.
“Have you come alone?” the accountant asked and nodded for Rebecca to take the seat across from her at the high bar table.
“I am alone.”
The accountant breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m Barbara Kincaid.”
A waitress approached the table, and Rebecca ordered a lite beer. Rebecca was sitting with her back to the room and facing a floor to ceiling mirror that revealed the expanse of the bar. She watched the faces of the other patrons in that mirror. Somehow it seemed like eyes were boring into the back of her head, but she could find no one who was paying the least attention to their table. When the waitress was gone, she turned her full attention back to the accountant.
“Before we begin, I want you to know I’m recording our conversation,” Rebecca informed her and set her shoulder bag on top of the table between them.
“I can’t talk long,” the accountant said. “I have to get back to my hotel. My flight leaves in the morning.”
Rebecca glanced back up at the mirror. She could have sworn she caught sight of a man staring at her from behind. But when she perused the mirror, she could she no one paying the slightest attention to them.
“Thank you for meeting with me, Ms. Kincaid. I’ll try and make this brief. First of all, can you explain your motives for coming forward with this information at this time?”
“I’ve watched these people steal from average people for far too long. I’m sick of it. I have a family. Families just like my own are their victims.”
“Are you aware that you have a substantial amount to lose by providing me with this information?”
“I’ll lose my job.” She looked back down at her napkin. “But I don’t care about that.”
“My network may take this to the federal prosecutor’s office before we break it as a news story. I can’t guarantee they’ll give you immunity. You could be indicted, too.”
“I’m not worried about that. I’m doing the right thing. I’ll be able to look my grandchildren in the eye again. I have a family I love. They’re all I need. Whatever else happens…Well, so be it…”
There was a man back there, over by the bar counter at the front of the room. Rebecca was nearly certain she saw him this time. But once more when she looked into the mirror, she could find no one out of the ordinary. She was letting all of the warnings from the brass back in the newsroom play on her imagination and agitate her nerves. She told herself to quit being silly. There was no one in that place paying the slightest attention to them. They were just two professional women having a drink after work. No one thought anything more about them, if they even thought about them at all.
“I want you to know I admire you, Ms. Kincaid,” Rebecca told her, and she really meant it. This woman was thirty years older than she was. She had obviously taken the wrong job for the wrong corporation. But she was trying to do the right thing. She had a family that was clearly the center of her world and gave her strength to face this situation that must have become a nightmare for her. Rebecca would have liked to envision her life similar to this woman in thirty years, but doubted that it ever would be. She was becoming a tough and hardened reporter, and this was the story she hoped would put her career over the top. Her career was going to have to be enough since it seemed having her own family was just not in the cards for her.
She looked back into the mirror, searching the room for the dark figure of the unknown man. Don’t be silly, she told herself. Of course there was no one watching her. The room had just gotten busier in the last half hour. The guys at the bar were cheering because their team on the TV had just scored.
Barbara Kincaid passed a pink-colored USB thumb drive across the table to Rebecca. She tapped the tiny device with her fingers for a moment as if afraid to part with it and then turned it over to Rebecca. She sat back in her chair and took a drink from her spritzer.
“Everything you’ll want on Black Creek Oil is on that drive,” she told her. “The phony geologist report…the original report that said there was little to no oil on that land. The books of their executive’s offshore accounts…the corporate accounts of how the government subsidy was funneled into slush accounts. The cooked balance sheet the IPO price was based on. Everything is on the twelve gigs of memory of this drive. I’m entrusting it to you, Ms. Everheart. Give it to whomever you think is appropriate. Do the right thing with it.”
Rebecca picked it up and eyed the pink rubber covering the invaluable drive. “Thank you,” she told her. “I promise I’ll put this to good use.”
“Before I leave, I should warn you. I’m fairly certain someone at my firm knows what I’ve done. I think they have alerted Black Creek Oil. By turning that drive over to you, I could be putting you in jeopardy.”
“I’ve been in one or two tough situations before in my career. I think I can handle this one,” Rebecca said with a smile on her face. “Please stay in contact with me. Let me know if there’s anything I can do. You know
how to reach me.”
Now that the deed was done, the timid side of the accountant was back. She looked about her surroundings in the bar, a worried expression creasing her face with every darting glance she took. She finished her spritzer with a last quick gulp and got ready to make her exit.
“Thank you for your assistance, Ms. Everheart.” Now she extended her hand to Rebecca, who took it gladly and gave it a squeeze for good luck. “I think it is best if I leave first. I’ll just pick up the tab.”
Rebecca caught her hand before she could reach for her credit card. “Please let my network pick this one up.”
“Oh, very well.” The accountant got up from the table without any preamble. She took another few worried glances around to make sure the coast was clear, and then she was gone, disappearing into the busy sea of people.
Rebecca stayed on for another ten minutes, finishing her lite beer and looking around at the different faces of people out for an hour or two of relaxation that night. She had convinced herself that no one had been watching her before. That had been her imagination. She hadn’t been lying to Barbara Kincaid when she told her she had been in a few tough scrapes before during the course of her career. Now that she had the thumb drive in her possession, the rest of this story would all fall into place.
She couldn’t wait to get the data on that drive loaded into a computer and start reviewing it. She thought briefly about walking it back to her office, but quickly decided against that idea. The big brass would still be hovering around the newsroom, and they would let her have no privacy.
Her best course of action from here would be to get this back to her apartment and load the data on her computer back there. She would have all night to analyze it and come up with a strategy to present to her employers when she went back to work tomorrow. She tucked the thumb drive securely into her shoulder bag, paid her tab, and left the bar walking out into the foggy San Francisco night outside.
Chapter Twenty
Rebecca listened to the sound of her heels click on the pavement as she walked home. Because of the cool, foggy weather, most people had stayed off the street that night. Everything was still in the city. She could hear traffic noise coming from the main intersection two blocks east. The side street she took was lonely and deserted.
Her apartment was a few blocks south of the bar. She had made this walk returning home from work many times. She always found peace in the night and was never bothered by it.
Tonight was different however. She was still jittery from the interview at the bar and feeling the excitement of anticipation from having almost broken the major story on Black Creek Oil. The uphill climb to her place seemed unusually long and taxing. The fog made it hard to see, and the lateness of the hour made the city feel like a sleeping giant around her.
When she made it to the top of the hill her apartment was on, she turned down an alley and headed west. She would be home to her cat in less than five minutes now that she had reached the friendly confines of this alley. She would fix herself dinner, which would be microwaving leftovers from last night’s dinner. She would change the kitty litter, feed Rodney the cat, and then start to work.
She passed several familiar landmarks on her way to her front door. The Chinese restaurant she often ate at was closed at this hour. The back entrance to the little family-owned grocery where she did her marketing went by on her left as she walked. It was also closed at this hour.
Not only could the sound of her own footsteps be heard now. Another pair of steps behind her sounded distinctly enough to tell her this was not her imagination. She turned and looked over her shoulder, pausing for the briefest of seconds. No one was back there and the footsteps had stopped.
In another three minutes, she would be walking in the front door of her building. She started back on her way, finding that she hurried her step a little faster now. Ahead of her in the apartment was a night of long, tedious work pouring over the thumb drive in her shoulder bag. She could hardly wait to get to it and quickened her pace still more.
A shadow passed under the streetlight half a block behind her. When she turned around to look, the rolling fog obscured her vision and she couldn’t see anyone back there. This time she didn’t slow down but just kept right on heading toward her apartment building. She had about two minutes until she reached the door.
She turned down the last alley that would lead her to the street her building was on at the end. Someone had thrown away their copy of the San Francisco Chronicle, and the pages were scattering across the damp cement of the alley. The fog washed over her and left drops of dew scattered on her jacket. She clutched her shoulder bag tighter against her body and trudged onward.
A man rounded the corner at the end of the alley she was heading toward. He was walking toward her. He was wearing a short jacket with his hands tucked deep into the pockets against the chilly air. He seemed casual and to be paying her no attention as he approached. She hated that his turning that corner had caused her to jump. She told herself to get a grip. He was probably out for a late night walk or to visit a friend who lived in another apartment building.
She kept her head down and was going to walk past the man without even looking at him. She didn’t feel sociable tonight, not even feeling like a casual hello.
The man veered suddenly off course and was in her path, blocking her way. He stopped and looked up at her. She saw his face suddenly. He looked mean, holding a wicked smile on his face as he regarded her.
For the first time, real fear started to register with her. She stopped and looked up at him, hoping that maybe she had mistaken his erratic movement. But when she looked at him, she realized there could be no mistake about it. He had moved to block her path from out of the alley.
He was still about a hundred feet away from her. She stopped and came to a quick decision. This guy, for whatever perverted reason, was not going to let her pass him, but she could still backtrack to the main street behind her. There would be traffic on it and, if she was really lucky, maybe even a cop. She turned around and started to run. She had the jump on him, and she knew she could be a pretty fast sprinter even in high heels when she had to be.
Then she realized what was up. Those shadows she had seen behind her on the other street. Suddenly it all made more sense to her. She had been followed, and this had been a setup.
Two other men came out from the side of a building to block her retreat. They both looked just as evil as the man following behind her did, and there was no way she was ever going to be able to dart past both of them. Suddenly she realized how stupid she had been to place herself in this situation. She had allowed herself to become trapped.
She stood stock-still and tried to review her options. They had just become very scarce. The single man coming up behind her had approached to within fifty feet, and the other two were fast approaching from in front.
“Good evening, miss!” the man coming up behind her called. She heard his two friends start to laugh. “You’re an awfully fine lady to be out by yourself this late at night.”
Now the two men in front stepped directly up to her. “Yo, bitch! You looking for some action tonight?”
“Look, fellows, I don’t want to have any trouble.” She was attempting to back away from the two in front, but the guy behind was now looming over her shoulder. “I don’t know what you all want. Let’s just make this easy, okay?” She pulled her wallet out of her shoulder bag and handed it to the man standing behind her. “There’s a little over a hundred in cash in there, plus two barely-used credit cards. You can have it all.”
The evil man at her back took the wallet from her hand and threw it down to the pavement without so much as a glance at it. “We’re going to take it all, bitch.”
“I think you know what we want.” The two men in front came up to her and stopped. She was now pinned between the three. One of them reached out and touched her shoulder bag. “You got a little pink thumb drive hidden in there somewhere?”
&n
bsp; “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Rebecca shook her head and was becoming desperate. She clutched her bag tighter to her chest. “I think you must have me confused with someone else.”
“We know exactly who you are!” The evil man at her back had his hands on her shoulder. His fingers were wrapping around her neck. His breath smelled of alcohol and tobacco. “You’re making trouble for a lot of people. You know you shouldn’t be doing that. You’re making waves where you shouldn’t be. Some really important people have paid us a lot of money to recover the thumb drive you’ve got hidden in your bag there.”
“But that’s not all, bitch!” One of the men in front had now reached out and was painfully gripping her face in his clammy hand. “They’re also paying us to teach you a lesson.”
“We’re going to teach you a real good lesson.” The third man yanked on the bag. Rebecca let out a scream. The leather strap of the bag tore into her shoulder. The sudden pain caused her to release her hold on the bag and the strap fell away from her shoulder. The bag fell into the hand of the man who had grabbed for it. “We’re going to teach you a lesson you’ll never forget, bitch!”
The man behind her had her arms pinioned to her back with one hand. In the other hand, he still held her neck in a painful chokehold. He dragged her backward with such force that her shoes dropped off her feet. She felt another jolt of pain as her body was slammed up against the wall of the abandoned grocery store.
Rebecca fell down onto the wet concrete pavement. The three evil men closed in on her, and she began to scream.
* * * *
A foot slammed into Rebecca’s side. She was agile enough to squirm out of the way and avoid most of the blow. The wind was knocked out of her. One of the men reached down to her on the ground. He picked her up by her hair and lifted her back to her feet. Then he threw her like a rag doll back up against the wall.
The three men closed in on her in a huddle. For all the good it would do her, Rebecca was determined to scream. Of course no one would come to her in time. But she wasn’t going down without a fight.
