“Why don’t I walk with you? I’ll just run in and get my shoes.”
“Well, I suppose. But hurry.”
Kat bounded up the stairs and ran to the front hallway. She laced up her Adidas and grabbed a jacket. She raced outside, but Verna was gone.
39
Kat started her run in the dark. Five a.m. was early, but she needed a quick run to clear her head. Where would someone like Clara move the money? Tracing the funds transfers from Opal’s Bancroft Richardson account was tedious. She’d checked and ruled out hundreds of worldwide banks last night, but still had dozens to go. If Clara moved the money again, it could be gone forever.
She ran along the footpath in inky blackness, carefully placing her feet to avoid tripping over branches and loose rocks. It was like running in snow, committing with her feet before knowing exactly what was in store. One misstep and she would easily sprain an ankle or worse.
Streetlights were nonexistent on the path to the river, so she would use her headlamp until reaching the boat launch and parking lot on the south side of the riverside park. The silence was broken only by her footsteps and the sound of a train whistle a kilometer away, inland from the river.
Her headlamp shone on a clearing to the right of the trail, which was littered with piles of garbage and shopping carts. Underneath the three lumps of blankets overlaid with cardboard were homeless people camped under the trees to escape the rain. She wasn’t entirely alone. She quickened her pace and came out into the clearing.
Dawn broke slowly, the grey light of early morning framing the Port Mann Bridge above. Maquabeak Park, located under the bridge, was little known to anyone other than boaters, dog walkers, and runners. It was Kat’s favorite place to sort out her thoughts.
Today did not disappoint. A light breeze blew in from the river, and the bushes glistened with morning dew. The shareholder meeting still weighed heavily on Kat’s mind. Her speech had attracted the attention of those at the meeting, but Nick and the Braithwaite Family Trust had control of the shares. Had she convinced Audrey? Or did she still think of her as an attention-seeking crackpot? It was hard to tell. The vote would go ahead tomorrow, one way or the other.
Liberty would be sold out from under the shareholders, and she seemed to be the only one who cared. Unless she could trace the money to Porter, no one would believe her. It was just too outrageous to think Liberty was going to be used for diamond laundering by organized crime.
Exposing Clara was good, but without a tie in to the money, there wasn’t anything to charge her with. The suspension wasn’t likely to stick either. Nick had issued a press release to smooth things over, saying Susan Sullivan was simply Clara’s attempt to take on a more anglicized name, and distance herself from her notorious father. Kat expected Clara to make a run for it now, eliminating any chance of being charged or convicted of the fraud. Kat was now certain she was behind it all, even the murders of Braithwaite and Takahashi.
If only she could figure out which banks held the account numbers on the paper from Clara’s garbage. How could she narrow it down from the thousands of banks worldwide?
She cut through the parking lot towards the railroad tracks. It was empty except for a dark van parked at the far end. Probably an early morning dog walker, she thought, although she hadn’t passed anyone yet. Today’s route took her along the boundaries of the Colony Farm Nature Reserve that bordered the park. The hum of early morning traffic from the highway ahead grew louder as she ran towards it beside the railroad track.
Another runner approached. He was stocky, not the typical skinny distance runner Kat usually encountered on these trails. Kat tried to make out his features as she grew closer, but it was dark and he had a hood pulled over his head. That made her uneasy. It was too warm to run with a hood, and it wasn’t raining anymore.
He avoided her stare as he passed, and from his heavy breathing she doubted he could manage more than a hundred meters without having to stop to catch his breath. This was an isolated spot, at least a couple of kilometers from the road, and she wondered why an obviously unfit runner would be out here at such an early hour.
It must be his van in the parking lot, she thought.
She considered doubling back but changed her mind. The lot was equally deserted. Constantly second guessing herself meant she would never get her run in. She would continue up the rail bed, turn at the community garden entrance, and go back on Eagle Trail as she had originally planned.
Suddenly someone grabbed her from behind. One arm wrapped around her neck in a chokehold and the other circled her waist. She gagged as she struggled to breathe. She felt hot breath steaming on the back of her neck.
Then she fought. She kicked back with her foot, trying to make contact. He tightened his grip, encircling her arms until she couldn’t move.
Stupid. What a stupid idea to run alone in the dark. How long until someone found her body? She would never do anything this idiotic again, she promised herself. If she ever got out of here.
“Don’t say anything, bitch, or you’re dead!”
He swung her around. It was the guy who had passed her on the trail.
“Do you want money? I don’t have any but I can get—”
“Shut the fuck up. You deaf or something?”
Kat opened her mouth and tried to scream. Nothing but a croak came out. No one could hear her anyway, not even the homeless people. He rammed his hand under her chin, hitting her jugular as she struggled to breathe. She stared at him, memorizing his features in case she made it out alive. He grinned at her with rotten, discolored teeth that looked like burnt popcorn kernels in a haphazard row. Her captor was clearly enjoying himself.
“Please let me go. I promise not to—”
He smacked the side of her head and everything went dark. Her legs fell out from underneath her, and she crumpled towards the ground. He caught her neck in the V of his hand and gripped her throat, breaking her fall. She gagged. She staggered to regain her footing and release the pressure off her neck. As she did, his grip grew tighter.
Her only chance was to run. If she could get out of his grip, then a few yards away. Maybe she would be able to out sprint him, provided she got a good start. She appraised him. Tall and stocky, he was built like a juiced-up linebacker. He was at least two hundred and fifty pounds and a good four inches taller than her. She needed to surprise him before he could react.
His hood was off now and she could see his face better. It was the guy who had broken into her office, the meth addict. Only now he was dressed decidedly more upscale in a Reebok tracksuit. His wild green eyes stared at her, assessing her. She got the feeling he wasn’t under any obligation to keep her in one piece.
So the office break in hadn’t been random at all. This was clearly related to Liberty. Any sense of satisfaction at being right was dwarfed by the sense of dread now consuming her. Was this how it happened to Takahashi and Braithwaite? What would he do next?
Meth Guy released his grip momentarily as he fished around in his pocket. He brought out a nylon zip tie and fastened her wrists together in front of her.
“Whatever you want, I’ll pay you. Just let me go. I’ll give you more than whoever hired you. And I won’t tell anyone. I promise. Please, just let me—”
“What did I just tell you?”
“Not to say anything?”
“Right. Now shut up or you’ll be sorry."
Kat feinted to the right and bolted past him, pumping her arms to escape his reach. His fingertips clawed at her side, grabbing at her shirt. She lunged forward, freeing herself from his grip. Then he tackled her from the side, grabbing and pulling her down and pushing her face into the muddy ground.
The last thing she felt was a whack on the back of her head. Then nothing at all.
40
Kat awoke with a splitting headache. Her back was sore from lying on the hard tile floor, and she was cold. She tried to move her arms but stopped as the nylon tie dug into her wrists. Now she rememb
ered: Meth Guy and the park trail. She promised herself never to run alone again.
She was in a building, humid but unheated. Darkness enveloped her as she shivered in her still-damp running clothes. She lay silent, listening for any sign of people, but there was no noise. She seemed to be alone.
After a few tries Kat maneuvered her arms enough in front to push herself up into a sitting position. She did a quick inventory. Except for the tie around her wrists, she was unencumbered and able to move freely. She moved her knees and pushed herself up into a standing position. Just as she stood upright, she thought she felt the floor move under her feet. She paused for a moment, but it didn’t happen again. Maybe she was dizzy from being hit in the head, she thought as she felt the lump on the side of her head.
Kat steadied herself, and then slowly moved her arms together in an arc, trying to feel around her. At hip height she connected with a counter. She felt along the top surface and found two sinks. On the other side her arms hit a swinging door. She was in a bathroom.
She felt along the edge of the counter until she reached the wall. She flicked a light switch, but nothing happened. She stretched her finger around to press the light on her watch as the nylon tie pressed uncomfortably against her wrist bone. After a couple of tries the watch illuminated, and she was able to see the door from its dim light. She pushed the door open a crack and peeked outside.
She was greeted by the sight of fast food restaurant tables and chairs, the kind that bolted to the floor. Diffused daylight filtered through windows covered in dirt and grime. The place looked abandoned.
She inched further out into the restaurant, careful not to make any noise. She turned the corner and her heart stopped. Directly in front of her was a man with his back to her, immobile. She froze. She could run back into the bathroom, but he would probably hear her. Instead she tiptoed closer to get a better look.
It was a super-life-size Ronald McDonald, bolted to the floor. She cursed herself for not recognizing the hideous yellow and red outfit sooner, even if it was from the back. Slowly she peered around Ronald, scanning the restaurant for any signs of life. There were none, just more dusty tables and chairs. She crept around the corner, watching for movement.
Judging from the low prices on the menu board, they hadn’t served Big Macs here for a very long time. The sign said smiles were free, though no one was behind the counter offering them up. Once again she felt the strange sensation of the floor moving beneath her feet, but just for a moment.
She jumped as she heard a man’s cough. Meth Guy must be here. She moved carefully towards the sound, padding as quietly as she could in running shoes sloshy from her trail run. She peered around the corner and saw a dark form at a far table, sitting in one of the chairs.
He was the last person she had expected to see in a place like this.
41
“Kat? Is that you?” he asked, in a strangely conciliatory tone, much nicer than she was used to hearing. Why did she keep having these bizarre reunions? First Meth Guy, and now Nick Racine. As she drew closer, she saw that his arms were fastened to the chair posts behind his back, his legs similarly tied to the chair support post. She was lucky to be able to walk around freely.
Nick’s suit was creased and his face darkened with five o’clock shadow.
“Nick? What are you doing here? What the hell’s going on?”
“I don’t know. Something to do with Susan.”
“You mean Clara.”
“Yeah, Susan, Clara, whatever. Look, you were right, okay.”
“Don’t play innocent with me. You’re in on this too. I haven’t figured out how yet, but you’re obviously in Clara’s back pocket.”
“Kat, think about it. Would I be stuck here now if that was the case?” Nick shifted his weight slightly, uncomfortable on the hard plastic seat. Kat wondered if he had ever set foot in a McDonald’s before.
“Clara wouldn’t even be at Liberty if it wasn’t for you. Didn’t you bother with a background check when you hired her?”
“Let’s save this discussion for later and concentrate on getting out. They’re going to be back for us. Soon.” Nick switched back to his domineering, arrogant self. “Go to the kitchen and find a knife to cut my ties—”
“I don’t think so. Not till you come clean.”
Even in the diffused light from the dirty windows, Nick’s face reddened in anger. She wouldn’t buckle. Nick wouldn’t be nearly as cooperative in a less compromising position. She turned to walk away.
“Fine! Have it your way. I just hope you don’t get us both killed because of it.”
“So why are you here, Nick? Did you try to kick Clara out of Liberty? Trying to keep all the spoils for yourself?” Kat sifted through the condiments station, but all she could find were straws and a few ketchup packets.
“I questioned the Porter takeover offer. The bid was too low. All I was trying to do was get a fair price for the shareholders. Normally that means shopping around for other bidders.” Nick didn’t sound so altruistic, considering he was the majority shareholder. “Clara didn’t like that. That’s when I found out who she really was.”
“C’mon, Nick. You knew who she was when you hired her. I’m not that stupid. Something went sideways, and you tried to back out. Am I right? What is it?” Kat scanned the counter for something sharp enough to cut her wrist ties. Was there anything in this place that wasn’t plastic?
“Okay, fine. I owed some money. Gambling debt, and some thugs were after me. Clara’s father lent me the money, and in return he wanted one of his employees to do a rotation at Liberty to learn about the diamond business.”
Kat stifled a laugh. Was Nick serious? A criminal mentorship program? He was even more incompetent than she had originally thought. Nick’s father had left him a fortune, according to Jace’s background check. Why would he even need a loan with his Liberty salary and inheritance?
“Let me get this straight. You borrowed from a loan shark, and when that got too hairy, you called a mafia kingpin to rescue you? How much money are we talking about, Nick?”
“Just a few million. And the proviso was that his employee would stay until I paid it back.” Nick shifted in his chair again, obviously uncomfortable. Kat wondered how long he had been there.
“Let me guess. You didn’t pay it back.”
“No. I was planning to, but he gave me some extra. I decided to buy some more shares on margin with the leftover money. The share price had bottomed, and it was a chance to make a quick double. Or so I thought. But the stock plummeted even more. I couldn’t come up with enough money to deposit to meet the margin call. All my money was locked up.”
“You’re day trading your own company?” That was a new low. Liberty’s chairman manipulating the stock.
“Hey, don’t call it day trading. My plan was to hold it for a few months. It was a chance to recoup my losses and get my life on track. Once the stock rebounded, I was going to sell and pay the money back. Only trouble is, the stock price never recovered. When I got the margin call, I had to cover or sell. I didn’t have any money to cover, so I sold. That locked in my losses and meant I didn’t have the money to pay back the loan.”
“Looks like your mentee pulled one over on you.” Was there anyone not manipulating Liberty stock?
“Yeah, I guess if your theory holds true that Clara was shorting Liberty stock.”
“It’s not a theory, Nick. It’s a fact.” Was he ever going to give her any credit?
“Anyways, I thought a good takeover story might pump up the stock, so I floated the idea with Ortega. Only thing is, he actually went through with it. I never intended to sell. It was just a way to get the price up.”
“Isn’t that illegal?” Nick, an insider, was pumping and dumping.
“They tricked me. They manipulated the stock so I would lose my money. And with my shares as collateral, they will be forfeited if I don’t pay back the loan.” Nick’s shoulders slumped in defeat.
“
Who’s ‘they’? Clara?”
“No. Not directly. Her father. He said the collateral was just a formality. At the time I didn’t know he was planning to steal the company with a low-ball takeover offer.”
“Nick, what did you expect? You’re dealing with major criminals here.”
Was he really that stupid? Or just playing dumb? He must have known about Clara all along.
“Don’t you see, Kat? The shareholder meeting’s tomorrow. If I’m not there, I can’t vote. And unless I appoint a proxy, Clara, as management, can vote my shares any way she likes.”
“True. But you hired Clara. There’s something about your story that doesn’t sound right. What is it that you’re not telling me?”
“Let’s save this discussion for another time and concentrate on getting out. We can help each other. We just need to find something to cut the ties.”
“We? I think you mean me, since I’m the only one walking around right now. I’m not doing anything until you tell me what’s going on. Why should I help you?”
The sound of an engine outside the restaurant drowned out Nick’s response. Kat turned and ran back to the washroom. She made it as far as the counter when she heard a chain bang against the boarded-up front door. Then the door burst open.
42
Meth Guy stormed into the restaurant. This time he was not alone. Trailing behind was another thug, shorter and stockier, with a receding hairline suffixed with a ponytail. Both were wearing black leather jackets, leather vests, and dirty jeans. Stale cigarette smoke wafted over to where Kat sat on the floor in front of the counter.
“Where is he, Gus?”
“Oh, for Christ-sakes, Mitch! What did I just tell you? Don’t use my name.”
“Okay, boss. But you just used mine too. I guess we’re even.”
So Meth Guy was Gus. And apparently had subordinates.
[Katerina Carter 01.0] Exit Strategy Page 19
