by Debra Webb
“What about backup?” She hated that her voice sounded a little thin.
“The Colby Agency will back me up.” Still he refused to look at her.
Determination hardened inside her. “No way, Baxley. I’m in on this until the end.”
“There’s no need—”
“Forget it,” she argued. Then to end it once and for all, she added, “I have a vested interest in the outcome. So don’t even think about trying to blow me off.”
He did look at her then. One glaring moment. “What kind of interest?”
“That’s none of your business.” She folded her arms over her chest and stared straight ahead. “But it’s to my benefit to stay.”
He made a scoffing sound. “I should have known you hadn’t hung around this long for any other reason.”
“That’s right,” she lied.
Let him think what he would.
She wasn’t going anywhere until this was done.
Chapter Twelve
Chicago, 7:15 a.m.
Victoria was running late this Monday morning. She placed her coffee mug in the sink. Two cups and she still didn’t feel completely awake. Food had held no appeal whatsoever to her.
After last night’s scare with Ruth, J.T.’s mother, and a long stay at the hospital, Victoria had reluctantly informed Ian that she wouldn’t arrive at the office until closer to nine.
Merri Walters had arrived at seven to relieve Jane Sutton. Jamie had perked up immediately when Merri peeked into her room. The child truly adored the newest member of the agency’s staff. Victoria felt immensely comfortable with Merri on duty.
Since she’d only arrived in Chicago two weeks ago, she was one of Victoria’s first choices for keeping watch over Jamie. As strange as it sounded, the logic was sound. The young woman had lived in Nashville her entire life. As a brand-new transplant to this city, Merri represented the least possible threat of having been pinpointed by the enemy.
Victoria despised that feeling of uncertainty. She trusted every member of her staff without reservation, however, when the enemy was seeking ways to infiltrate the agency, the regular faces were the easiest targets. Daily routines could be observed over a period of time, allowing for the discovery of opportunity.
Opportunity was all the enemy needed.
Merri had no daily routine. She was too new to the city and the agency. Until three days ago her name and face wouldn’t have even been associated with the agency at all. That provided a sense of added security for Victoria where her granddaughter’s safety was concerned.
She yearned for this to be over. But her staff was doing everything possible. This, too, would simply take time. As well as persistence. Even a lucky break or two wouldn’t hurt.
Victoria’s desperation was showing.
Last night’s hours at the hospital had reminded Victoria all too well of how fragile life could be. Seeing Ruth lying there so helpless had shaken Victoria. She’d checked with Patrick O’Brien first thing this morning. Ruth was doing well, particularly after her son’s visit last night.
According to Patrick, J.T. had been accompanied by Eve. Victoria’s romantic side couldn’t help hoping the two would end up together. No matter what Simon and Ian had learned about Eve, Victoria had noted the way the young woman had looked at J.T. Victoria knew true love when she saw it in another woman’s eyes.
Despite having met Eve Mattson on only three or four occasions and always in a social setting, Victoria was certain of her assessment. There were times, unfortunately, when love wasn’t quite enough. At times one had to overcome great personal obstacles in order to follow one’s heart.
Victoria hoped Eve would have the courage and strength to overcome hers. J.T. deserved to end up with the woman he loved.
When Victoria had spoken to Ian, he’d updated her on the alleged Cayman account in J.T.’s name. A dummy corporation had set up the account. The agency’s research department was attempting to track down the sources behind the corporation. That could take weeks or perhaps even months. Corporations of that sort were often designed to avoid taxes. The more difficult they were to track down, the better for those involved who wanted to keep certain assets hidden.
Victoria knew with complete certainty that J.T. wasn’t the source of the corporation or the account. But finding out who was could very well help with whatever was happening to him now.
But it would take precious time.
“Victoria.”
Victoria turned as Merri entered the kitchen. “Yes.” Victoria ensured that she maintained eye contact when she spoke to Merri. Having lost her hearing in her twenties, Merri relied almost solely on lipreading. She was trained in signing but preferred the less intrusive method of lipreading. Her preference was understandable, given the few years she’d been deaf.
“Jamie wanted me to hold this bear for her.” Merri offered the stuffed animal to Victoria. “I was admiring it, and I noticed something you need to be aware of.”
Victoria accepted Mr. Bear. It was Jamie’s favorite toy. She never went anywhere, including bed, without the cuddly animal.
“It’s the eyes.” Merri gestured to the stuffed animal. “The diamondlike centers are not right. They’ve been added.”
Victoria’s pulse jumped as she stared at the face of the stuffed animal. Lucas had given the toy to Jamie on her first Christmas. It had been at her side ever since. Many trips back to the mall or supermarkets had been required to find a lost Mr. Bear.
She studied the eyes closely. Merri was right. The center of the eyes were like small diamonds. Had they always been that way? Victoria wasn’t sure. She’d never noticed. She lifted her gaze to Merri. “Perhaps the eyes have always been this way.” She would certainly have Ian check it out while Jamie was in school. That was the one place the bear didn’t go—a decision not easily reached or enforced.
Merri shook her head, seeming confused or frustrated. “I’ve seen this before.”
Victoria frowned. She was the one who didn’t understand. “What do you mean?”
“My first assignment with Nashville’s Metro Division,” Merri explained. “I worked undercover as a nanny for a mob boss. His daughter had a bear similar to this one. The original eyes had been augmented with these. Those diamondlike stones are tracking chips.”
More of that pulse-throbbing adrenaline raced through Victoria’s veins. “Are you sure? You didn’t notice before?” Victoria was grasping at straws. How could this have happened?
Merri shook her head. “This morning is the first time Jamie allowed me to hold Mr. Bear. She asked me to take care of him while she goes to school.”
Victoria moved to the counter where she’d left her cell phone. “I’m calling Ian.”
“Excuse me?”
Victoria shook her head and reminded herself not to turn away or look down when she spoke. “I’m sorry. I said I’m going to call Ian. If this is what you believe it is, we need to know when and how the change occurred.”
Merri nodded. “Many parents do this in case their child is abducted.”
Victoria was aware such technology existed, but Jim and his wife, Tasha, hadn’t mentioned taking any of those precautions. “I need to find out,” she said to Merri.
“There will be a serial code on the backs. Difficult to see but there,” Merri explained. “That number can be traced back to the original purchaser. If your son or daughter-in-law made the purchase, you can confirm that quite easily.”
Victoria’s fingers stumbled on the numbers. Fear had tightened like a noose around her neck. As the call went through with an initial ring, she reached out, putting her hand on Merri’s arm. “Thank you. This could make all the difference.”
Dear God, Victoria wished Jim or Lucas were here.
Chapter Thirteen
1:15 p.m.
J.T. spread the small notepad pages on the table and stared at his handwritten results.
There was no question. Someone high enough up the food chain at GCL had embezz
led millions of dollars. Six payments over two years. The other two he’d considered had been paid in full.
The six were simply the ones he’d found during this rudimentary investigation.
There could be others. Many others.
“If the difference in payments went into that account with your name on it,” Eve offered, “you could have a hell of a time proving your innocence.”
All too true. “Victoria indicated there was around half a million in the account.” He gestured to the pages. “That could potentially be a hell of a lot more than half a million.”
“There could have been additional moves. Withdrawals.” Eve shook her head. “Someone set you up but good.”
“Every one of these client payouts were approved by Arenas.” That part stuck in J.T.’s gut. He had known the man well.
He’d thought he’d known Eve well, too.
“A dead man who can’t defend himself.” Eve sipped her iced coffee. “Kind of convenient, if you ask me.”
“Damned convenient.” J.T. glanced at the clock on the wall over the coffee shop’s serving counter. Almost one-thirty. “We should head for the restaurant soon.”
Eve followed his gaze and noted the time herself. “You’re sure she’ll show up?”
“She’ll show up.” He gathered the pages and folded the stack before tucking them into the pocket of his jeans. A change of clothes and a shower would have been nice, but there hadn’t been time.
Since leaving the hospital, they had been covering ground as quickly as possible to reach all the names on the list. Only two of the eight names on his list had received the full death benefit specified by their policies. The others had been strong-armed, in a manner of speaking, into taking significantly less than the policy’s face value.
It appeared someone had stolen millions.
Terror tactics. This could be called nothing else. The beneficiaries had been threatened, terrorized to a degree, to accept far less than had been contractually promised.
J.T. intended not only to clear himself but also to see that this travesty was set to rights. He thought of Leonard Jamison, physically disabled and living alone with no means to hire help of any sort. He’d seen much of the same with the other clients.
Clients seemed to be chosen based on rigid criteria. Few or no remaining family members, meager financial resources—like Paula Jamison. As long as her husband had been living, her personal finances were great—because he had a high-paying job. But after his death the insurance policy had been her only hope for financial security without his income. Another criterion appeared to be the selection of those who knew little about the way insurance worked and who did not possess the means to have the matter investigated. They simply accepted the paltry payments offered.
One of the beneficiaries, Helen Talley, for example, had depended wholly on her husband for taking care of business matters. She knew nothing of how such things worked. She had been the quintessential victim.
J.T. hesitated before leaving the table. He set his attention on Eve. “Is Eve your real name?” He had asked that question before. She’d hedged.
When she didn’t answer right away, he added, “Give me something here. I can’t keep pretending it doesn’t matter. We’re working together. Striving for the same goal.”
“Yes,” she said, her expression blank. “Satisfied?”
“Mattson? Or is it one of many others you’ve used?”
She looked away. “Mattson is the name of an actress I used to idolize. I wanted to be her.”
The pain in her voice tugged at him. Made him want to know more. But he couldn’t push her any harder than that. He wanted to kick himself for caring. For even wondering about her past.
Couldn’t be helped. His feelings wouldn’t be turned off that easily.
“Thank you.”
She looked at him then.
She didn’t respond, not verbally anyway. But he saw the uncertainty, the confusion in her eyes.
Enough for now.
Outside the coffee shop, Eve surveyed the street, as did he. So far there had been no sign of a tail. They’d succeeded in escaping the hospital without drawing attention, and that had set the precedent for the day so far.
It was almost eerie. J.T. settled behind the wheel of O’Brien’s car. If the bad guys understood that he was onto what they’d been up to, wouldn’t they expect him to call on the clients involved?
Yet no one had been waiting for him to show. Each visit had gone off without a hitch.
They either had another strategy in place or were some really stupid bad guys.
Judging by how much money they had stolen over the past couple of years, he was relatively certain they were not stupid.
There was something else in the works.
“This Rebecca,” Eve ventured, “is trustworthy?”
“To my knowledge.” J.T. eased out of the parking spot and headed for the Magnificent Mile. “I’ve never had any reason to believe otherwise.”
“Is that your usual standard of measure?”
Irritation kicked him in the solar plexus. “Until recently, yes.”
Her silence let him know his words had hit the mark he’d intended.
Part of him wanted to demand why she didn’t just go. She’d said she had something to gain, but he didn’t see how that was possible.
Unless…she was the fail-safe individual. The one who ensured he was never too far out of reach, that he took all the steps that would ultimately do him no good except for putting his mark on each piece of evidence.
His first instinct was to give her the benefit of the doubt. But as she’d pointed out, maybe that wasn’t such a good measure.
But it was one he’d lived by his whole life. He’d learned from the two people he trusted most—his parents. He wondered where Eve had learned her values.
Did it really matter?
She was a stranger to him. He had no legitimate reason to wonder anything about her. When this was done she would disappear again and he’d have to start the grieving process all over.
That was what he’d been doing for the last two weeks or so…grieving.
Because he’d stupidly trusted her, trusted his heart.
Gloom settled deep in his soul as he drove the few miles to their destination. Her continued silence only added another layer of dejection.
The worst part was he shouldn’t have cared.
“There’s a parking garage,” she pointed out, hauling him out of the troubling thoughts.
He made the turn into the garage and found an empty space. Street parking was virtually impossible to snag on the famous street.
“What if this is a setup?” Eve shoved her door closed and met him at the rear of the vehicle. “She could be the one instead of Arenas. I’m finding it seriously weird that no one lay in wait at any of the addresses we visited this morning.”
“I guess we’ll find out.” J.T. kept his eyes and ears open as he moved out of the dimly lit garage onto the sidewalk.
The Mag Mile hosted the usual summer crowd of tourists window-shopping and workers rushing back to the office after a late lunch. Getting lost in the crowd was easy enough. The popular restaurant Rebecca had chosen would provide anonymity, as well. Quiet and deserted were never the best options for blending in.
J.T. gave Rebecca’s name to the hostess, who immediately led them through the waiting crowd to a corner table, which offered as much privacy as could be expected in a high-profile tourist hotspot. Rebecca had already ordered her usual glass of white wine. She looked up and smiled as they approached.
“J.T.” Rebecca stood and gave him a hug.
“It’s good to see you, Becca.”
“And who’s this?” Rebecca asked as her attention shifted to Eve.
HAD THE WOMAN really just asked that? Eve resisted the urge to roll her eyes. And who’s this? Like Eve was a child or a pet.
“This is my friend Eve Mattson.”
His friend?
The other woman had extended her hand, while Eve was still reeling at the idea that Rebecca James didn’t know who she was. She and J.T. had been engaged for a month, were supposed to get married two weeks ago—and one of his friends didn’t know who Eve was?
There was something wrong with that picture.
Had they not lunched or had drinks in the past two months?
Eve gave the extended hand a brisk shake but she didn’t bother with the nice-to-meet-you line. Lying had never been a problem for her, but why bother? She couldn’t care less what sort of impression she made on this woman.
Rebecca was the kind of woman other women loved to hate: beautiful, stick thin but with a great bust and long legs. She dressed like a politician’s wife, discreet, sophisticated. How nice.
When they’d settled at the table, J.T. pulled out his pages of notes. “This is what I’ve come up with so far.”
Rebecca scooted closer to him. “Well, let’s have a look.” She leaned even closer to see the pages.
Eve wasn’t buying it for a minute. She could see the notes clear across the table.
“I picked the eight largest payouts over the past two years,” J.T. explained to the attentive woman. “Six of the beneficiaries received significantly less than the policy’s value. The tactics for achieving the lower payouts were clearly criminal.”
Rebecca pursed her demurely painted lips a moment. “I recognize these names.” She looked at J.T. then. “These are payouts Terrence cleared. In fact, several are clients he brought to the company.”
“He did clear the payouts,” J.T. confirmed. “I didn’t know he’d brought any of the clients in.”
“Definitely. In the early days, before his promotion. He was quite the salesman.”
Eve had a feeling old Rebecca was a pretty good saleswoman herself.
“Can you confirm the payments claimed by the beneficiaries?”
“Of course.” Rebecca moved her head from side to side, her expression somber. “This does not look good.” She heaved a sigh. “I’m beginning to suspect Terrence may have committed suicide, after all.”
