“You’ve got my attention.”
“Okay, I was worried over the past due bills that kept coming in from the government, so I did a little digging.”
“Marina, not this again.”
Marina sprung from the chair and paced the living room. “Yes. This. I’ve been right all along. I discovered there’s a lot of money missing from our bank account. I’m guessing that’s why you haven’t paid the bills. When I was at the office, I grabbed our expense files, so I could poke around a bit more. I found a file on a company called Blossom Marketing. I couldn’t find a website for them or any evidence we’d used them for advertising.”
“Marina, I’ve told you before not to worry about the financial end of things. You need to focus on getting new clients and sales.”
“Iris, I do that already. I work hard. I bring in plenty of new customers. And someone’s spending that hard-earned money without authorization.” Marina clenched her teeth and tried to hold back the outrage which festered within her. “It’s hard to stay focused when $150,000 is missing from the company. And now a dead guy—Jason, of all people—was in our delivery truck!” She stomped her foot on the hardwood floor causing a jolt in her ankle that doubled her over.
Before Iris could respond, she sucked in a deep breath and took the plunge. “I was at the bank this morning and discovered we’ve been paying that company—and the account is your account. What’s going on Iris? Are you in trouble?”
“Leave the accounting issues to me. It’s in your best interest.” The sharpness in Iris’s tone was meant to cut Marina, and it did. This person who she’d shared all of life’s details with for years was now shutting her out.
Marina yanked on the ends of her hair and suppressed a scream. “What does that even mean? Is that a threat?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Iris’s words chopped away at Marina’s heart and wounded her to the core.
Marina couldn’t let this go. Plopping back down onto the sofa, she screamed, “Well, I do! What about the key I found to a safety deposit box? What’s in the box?” What could be so bad that she wouldn’t talk to her best friend about it?
“You were snooping around in my office? How dare you!” Iris screamed. “I’m not talking about this while I’m out of town.”
Marina slammed her hand down on the end table and almost knocked over her glass of water. “Iris, I demand you tell me where that money is going.”
Iris sneered, and Marina shuddered. “You should know by now not to demand me to do anything.”
Her pulse pounded in her head, and everything seemed to go black. Was this what true rage toward someone felt like? “I’m part owner in this business. I don’t have to ask your permission. I’m entitled to know. I’ll get a warrant if I have to, and I’ll get the answers I’m looking for.”
Marina ended the call with Iris, sweat beading on her upper lip, and threw the phone on the counter. Fear and anger wrestled inside her head until she screamed, but even that release didn’t soothe the ache this betrayal caused to her heart.
Marina folded her laundry in her bedroom with the windows cracked open to let in the fall breeze. Even though she’d hoped busying her hands and listening to the birds would distract her, it didn’t. How could Iris have threatened her like that? Was Steven right? If Iris was involved in a drug trafficking ring, then her company was involved with it. Marina could lose everything she’d worked for.
There had to be a way to get answers. What if she misjudged Iris and convicted her of a crime she hadn’t committed? Still everything implied her guilt. Since Iris refused to talk about it, guilt hovered over her. What could’ve gone wrong in Iris’s life that would have made her take that money from their company? Mack had a decent job and worked for them only part-time. If Marina could live off her income, why couldn’t Iris with the help of a spouse?
Marina’s phone buzzed on the bed, and Iris’s face stared up at her. She should ignore her, but maybe Iris would apologize—or better, explain.
Plopping on the bed, she answered the phone. Before she could say hello, Iris was already talking.
“Marina, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have blown up at you. I shouldn’t have threatened you.”
Marina’s neck stiffened, and she started matching socks while she waited for Iris’s explanation. “You’re right. You shouldn’t have. What’s going on, Iris?”
“Will you promise you won’t be mad at me?”
Marina scoffed, “I’m already mad. I need the truth.” Her anger toward Iris unsettled her, so unloving. But theft deserved anger until an explanation was given. Didn’t it?
“Okay, but keep in mind if not for the money, you’d probably laugh at what I’m about to say.”
“Maybe.” Marina couldn’t imagine anything about this scenario that would cause her to laugh.
“I have a shopping addiction.”
Marina rolled over onto her side and picked at a snagged thread on her floral duvet. “Huh?”
“I know, it’s crazy. But I do. I buy stuff all the time, and I give everything away to the thrift store a week later. I can’t stay out of stores. That’s why you don’t see me in the same outfit twice often.”
Marina squeezed her eyes shut and pursed her lips. This conversation would drain her of any emotional energy she had left after this weekend’s happenings. While Iris was right about her outfits, a shopping addiction was a stretch. “Iris, there’s no way you’ve spent $150,000 on a shopping addiction. Be honest with me. I’m not stupid. What’s really going on?”
Chapter Twelve
Iris fell silent, and Marina let her stay that way. If they had to sit there for the next five hours on the phone without talking, that’d be fine. She’d plug up her phone, so the battery wouldn’t go dead and wait until Iris was truthful with her.
After an agonizing ninety plus seconds, Iris spoke. “You’re going to hate me, Marina.”
“I won’t hate you. But don’t you understand this is my livelihood?”
“It’s my livelihood, too, Marina.”
“Where’s the money, Iris?”
“Okay. Here goes.”
“The truth this time?”
Iris moaned. “The truth.”
Marina sat up and leaned against the headboard. This had better be good.
“I have a gambling addiction.”
“A gambling addiction?” She’d never known Iris to buy even a lottery ticket. There was no way she was addicted to gambling.
“You know all those times I went out of town to learn about horticulture? I’ve been gambling in Las Vegas, Atlantic City, and Branson.”
“What?” Marina chuckled under her breath. No way was this Iris’s defense.
“I’m in pretty deep.”
Pain shot through Marina’s stomach. “You owe a loan shark?”
“I owe the Mob.”
“Iris!” Fear strangled Marina. What had her best friend done to them?
Iris sniffled like she was crying, but Marina couldn’t be sure—and if so, if her tears were real.
“Why don’t you pay them with the money you transferred from our account?”
“The money’s gone, Marina. I gambled it away.”
If Iris was telling the absolute truth, then she indeed was in deep. Marina slid off the bed and moved to the window. There wasn’t anything to look at except the parking lot and a few neighbors raking leaves and emptying their trash, but she needed a distraction. “What about your personal checking account?”
“We barely have any money, Marina.”
“The safety deposit box?”
“Empty.”
“Can you get a loan from the bank?” Marina heard her own voice getting louder, but she didn’t care.
“Oh, you’re a funny one.”
Marina rubbed her eyes and fought the desire to cry. “Okay, okay, it’ll work out. Somehow you’ll get it worked out.”
“You’re not going to help me?”
“I’m not gettin
g involved with the Mob.” Marina stiffened her neck. “What’s Blossom Marketing? Is it even a real company?”
Iris sobbed. “No, it’s the account I opened to transfer funds, so you wouldn’t see why I was using the money. I didn’t mean for it to happen this way. I really thought I’d return it to the business account before you found out about it.”
“Iris, even if you could’ve, that’s lying and cheating.”
“I know. And I’m—”
She waited for the apology. If Iris would say the words, Marina might be willing to help. “You’re what?”
“I’m positive I won’t ever be able to replace it much less pay my debts.”
Marina slumped. So much for the apology. “Does Mack know about it?”
“No. And I can’t tell him.”
Marina returned to her place on the bed. “Iris, you have to. We have to tell the police too.”
“No! Why would we tell the police?”
“Because the detective was with me when I went to the bank. He knows about the money. He’s already doing an investigation and thinks the money is involved with his case.”
“But it’s not.” Iris sniffled. “What kind of investigation?”
“He’s trying to figure out how our property, Jason, and the incidents of Friday night are connected.”
“You can’t tell him. Mack will divorce me. They’ll kill me.”
Marina planted her forehead into her palm, careful to avoid the stitched area, and rested her elbow against her stomach. “I have to be honest with the detective.”
Iris bawled until a scream threatened to erupt from Marina then begged her with a scratchy voice. “Please give me time to get home from my parents’ house. I’ll try to talk to Mack about everything while we’re here, but he’s already destroyed over the news about Jason, I don’t know if I’ll be able to. I need a few more days. Please don’t tell the detective yet.”
Marina hated secrets. She hated withholding any evidence which could clear up matters. What if Iris was still lying to her? What if she knew the truth of what had happened to Jason? “I’ll try, but if he starts poking around more than he already has, and he starts thinking I’m involved, I’m going to tell him.”
When she got off the call with Iris, she collapsed on her bed and cried. How could this have happened? How could Iris have allowed herself to get in this deep with criminals that she’d risk everything they’d worked for?
She didn’t have one true friend in the world. The one person she’d trusted with everything had betrayed her. What would she do now?
Something that sounded like gunshots pounded against the front of Marina’s house causing her to bolt off the bed. Holding her ribs, which now burned from her sudden move, she ran downstairs and into the living room. Inching her way to the window, she pulled back the curtains. Nothing was out there. In one swift move, she slid to the floor and waited. That noise hadn’t been in her imagination. Gunfire or something like it had exploded outside.
She tucked her legs up against her chest and wrapped her arms around them. No matter where she was, she wasn’t safe.
After waiting for what seemed like an eternity, Marina stood and cracked open her front door. Red paint dripped down the door and the brick front of her house. A taped note hung right below the peephole. They’d found her. She needed to call Steven.
Marina slammed her door and locked it, not bothering to retrieve the note. She’d learned from Steven at the hospital the ease of tainting DNA when he was careful with the card from the florist, and she didn’t want to prevent the police from identifying her tormenter. She slid the foyer table over in front of the door. Although flimsy and too short to reach all the way up to the doorknob, maybe it would deter whoever was out there.
Her legs throbbed and quaked as she made her way to the stairs to get to her phone. The amount of adrenaline that had coursed its way through her veins the last two days had left her muscles depleted and weak. This was no time to be a victim, though.
An abrupt banging on her door sent her barreling up the stairs and disregarding her injured ankle and ribs. She covered her mouth with her right hand and harnessed her scream while holding on to the banister like her life depended on it. She needed to get to her phone.
She made it to her bedroom, slammed the door behind her, then limped to the bed. “I need this to stop! I can’t take any more of this. God, do you hear me?”
Marina grabbed her phone and pressed Steven’s contact info, dialed, then waited. He picked up on the second ring.
“Marina?”
“Steven, someone’s banging on my front door! He shot red paint at my door with a paintball gun and taped a note to it. I slammed the door, and a second later, he was trying to get in.”
“I’m on my way. Let me radio the units in the vicinity.”
She pinched her bottom lip. “Stay on the phone with me, Steven.”
“I will.”
Marina waited on the line while Steven radioed for assistance. His voice remained calm, but she sensed an edge to it. Was he tired of her already? Or was he concerned? She still didn’t know how to read him.
“Marina, I’ll be there in ten minutes. Are they still banging on your door?”
“No, it stopped.”
“Look out the window and see if the perpetrator is still out there.”
She’d crawled up to her pillows and pressed against the headboard with no intention of moving.
“Marina, where are you?”
“I’m in my bedroom. I’m too scared to go downstairs.”
“Go to the bedroom on the front of your house. Look outside from there.”
Marina inched her way off the bed and tiptoed her way across the hall. She spread apart the slats of the blinds and peeked out to the front stoop. The roof impeded her view but didn’t prevent her from seeing there were no feet on her porch. “No one is on the porch. They’re gone.”
“What about out at the street? Do you see anyone?”
She scanned the walkway that led to the front parking area and then surveyed the side parking area by the pool. When her gaze met the hoodie-shrouded face of the man standing by a white van holding Simba, she screamed. When the stranger sliced across Simba’s neck with a large knife and tossed his body into the bushes, she dropped the phone and hit the floor.
***
Panic gripped Steven’s heart and wouldn’t let go. If something had happened to Marina, he’d never forgive himself for leaving her alone. “Marina? Are you there?” He pulled the phone from his ear. The screen confirmed his fear. The call had ended ... but why?
“What’s wrong?”
Steven glanced at John. “She hung up on me. She wouldn’t have done that unless something happened to her.”
John grabbed the radio. “We’re almost there. I’ll radio in to see how close the other units are.”
While John radioed the area units, Steven sped through the traffic they’d encountered once they got off the exit. He didn’t care what he had to do to get to Marina.
He pressed dial on her number as he went through a four-way stop with caution. He swerved to miss hitting the curb, and anticipating the backlash from John, he refocused his attention on driving.
“Pennington, watch the road. Don’t get distracted by this woman and lose your common sense.”
Steven’s blood boiled. “I’ve got it covered, John. I’m not reckless.”
“I know, partner. Just remember, you’ve got Sharon’s husband in the car with you.”
Steven released his tension with a chuckle. John always knew how to lift the dark clouds which so often hovered over his day. “Yeah, I should take care not to cause you harm, or your lovely wife won’t invite me for dinner anymore.”
“That’s right. She won’t.”
A few minutes later, Steven whipped into Marina’s neighborhood and slowed his pace through the roundabout and the stop sign at her street. Three units waited at the curb, and several officers stood on the porch.<
br />
He threw his SUV into park and hopped out onto the street without waiting for John to follow, although he would. In one swoop, he cleared a path and headed straight for Officer Knox, a stocky dark-haired man who had been a cop in this neighborhood for at least five years. They hadn’t always agreed on issues, but he was a skilled officer. “Has anyone been inside the house?” He released his Glock from its holster.
Knox removed his sunglasses. The fretful expression in his deep-set blue eyes reflected his concern for Marina’s safety. “Detective, we rang the doorbell multiple times. We knocked. No one answered. The door’s locked, and there are no signs of forced entry. Are you sure someone’s home?”
As sweat poured from his brow, Steven blew out a frustrated puff. If he could grab Knox by the collar, he would. “Knox, I was on the phone with Ms. Acres when the call dropped. She’s here. Spread out and check the vicinity for evidence. Collect samples of the paint on the front door, and bag the note. Be careful not to smudge possible fingerprints.” Steven faced Knox. “I want you in charge of this scene, okay?” He nodded with his command.
Knox smiled. “Yes, sir.” He stepped away and began giving orders to the other officers.
Steven dialed Marina’s number again, but she didn’t answer. His vision blackened. His ears rang. His knees quaked. “I’m breaking down the door.”
John grabbed his shoulder.
Steven glared at him. “If someone hurt her, she could be fighting for her life in there. Or someone could be in there right now torturing her.” He pointed toward the house. “Or she could’ve been taken, and we need to process the scene, so we can locate her.”
John nodded and slapped him on the back. “I’m with you. Let’s go.”
With guns drawn, they made their way to the porch. Steven took a moment to voice a silent prayer for protection and reassured himself he could have a heart attack or mental breakdown later. Right now, he needed to rescue Marina.
***
They’d discover her soon. They had already broken through her front door, and now they tromped through her downstairs. Their words weren’t discernable, but the thunder in their voices spoke volumes. Time was her enemy.
Grafted into Deceit (Intertwined Book 3) Page 14
