Fatal Deception

by Marie Force

  “I’ll let you think about it,” she said with a jaunty wave as she started to walk away.

  “What’re we supposed to do in the meantime?” Jerry asked with a snarl.

  “Chill out and relax,” Sam said with another cheerful smile as she headed out of the jail and took the stairs.

  Gonzo met her in the pit. “Derek Kavanaugh is waiting in your office with something he said he needs to show you. Looks like he’s been crying.”

  “Shit,” she muttered, hoping her good mood wasn’t about to take a hit. She went into her office and shut the door. Derek was sitting in her visitor chair with his elbows propped on his knees and his head hanging between his shoulders. He was the picture of devastation. “Derek?”

  He raised his head to reveal a grief-ravaged face.

  “What is it? What’s happened?”

  “She loved me,” he said softly. “It was real. We were real.”

  Relieved and curious and instantly on alert, Sam leaned against her desk. “How do you know?”

  He handed her a large white envelope. The address portion contained a printed label with Derek’s name and his parents’ address but no return address. There was no other information on the envelope except for a registered mail tag.

  “It arrived via registered mail to my parents’ house first thing this morning. She arranged it in advance in case anything ever happened to her. It’s the whole story with a notarized statement in her legal name attesting to the fact that it’s from her so it can be entered as evidence in court. There’s a note from a lawyer that said he had to retrieve the documents from storage, so it took a couple of days to get them to me. He also said he’d be available to testify to the fact that he handled this matter for her.”

  “Oh my God,” Sam said as she skimmed the letter written in Victoria’s own hand, in which she professed her profound sorrow for her involvement in a scheme that had gotten so far out of her control she’d seen no way out of it. Sam read as fast as she could, devouring the details of how Valerie Taft’s father George worked as Arnie’s second in command at the Patterson Financial Group until he quit abruptly. A few days later, he and his wife perished in a fire at their home.

  Authorities had suspected arson, but they’d been unable to prove it. Valerie, who’d dated Colton Patterson in high school, had been working in Pennsylvania after college at Bryn Mawr when her parents died. Devastated, she’d returned home to Defiance. The Patterson family had taken her in, treated her as a member of their family and helped to soothe the raw ache of her loss.

  She detailed meeting with her father’s attorney, at which time she learned he’d uncovered a massive fraud within the Patterson empire, which was why he’d resigned. The company was nothing more than a Ponzi scheme, a house of cards that could fold at any time. He’d detailed everything he knew and had given the information to his attorney the day before the fire, intending to contact the state attorney general. Her father’s attorney suspected her parents had been killed by Patterson to keep her father quiet about what he’d discovered. Shocked and dismayed that people she considered family could be responsible for her parents’ tragic deaths, she’d made the egregious mistake of confronting Arnie Patterson about what she’d learned.

  The lawyer who’d been so kind to her had been found dead the next day, his office firebombed, leaving Valerie without any of the evidence her father had so carefully accumulated to prove the Ponzi scheme. Arnie had made her a virtual prisoner in his home, refusing to let her leave or contact anyone. After two weeks of lockdown and deprivation, he and his sons had presented her with an ultimatum—participate in their plan to gain access to the top levels of the Nelson administration or they would pin the fraud at Patterson Financial on her father.

  They’d made it very clear that they would ruin his good name—and hers—unless she gave them a year of her life and did exactly what they told her to. The only thing the Patterson family had more of than money was ambition.

  “I’d once heard Arnie say at a dinner party,” Victoria wrote, “that if he had to choose between being president and never having sex again, he’d choose being president because power was the greatest high on earth.”

  Since she’d been their prisoner at the time, she’d taken the deal, hoping to find a way out once she was free of their estate.

  Astounded by what she was reading and trying to process it all, Sam glanced at Derek, who was staring off into space.

  “Keep reading,” he said. “It gets better.”

  Valerie—now known as Victoria Tate—got the first whiff that nothing was as it seemed when she saw the trouble and expense they’d gone to in creating her new identity. The scheme and her identity had obviously been a long time in the making. That was when she realized they’d planned everything right down to expecting her to confront Arnie about what she’d learned from the lawyer. It had all been part of a plan so much bigger than her she couldn’t begin to get her head around it.

  Fearing for her own life, she did as she was told and befriended Derek at the gym, beginning a cat-and-mouse game with him that culminated in him asking her out more than a month later. “You took far longer than they expected you to, my love,” Victoria wrote.

  * * *

  We’d begun to give up on you when you finally asked. It’s so important to me that you know that even though we met under the worst possible circumstances, every single thing that happened between us—the magic, the fireworks, the sparks—it was all real. From the first night we spent together, every word I said about how I felt about you and our darling daughter was real. I loved you. I loved Maeve. I loved our life together so very much, which is why I stayed long after the year I’d promised them was up. By then I’d realized they had no plans to let me go until Arnie was in the White House. After that, they probably planned to get rid of me too.

  I tried so hard to get free of them. I’d truly made a deal with the devil—and his sons. I realized how deep I was in this thing when my background check came back clean after we were married. I’d been hoping the officer would uncover the truth, but they’d even gotten to him.

  If you are receiving this letter, then my worst fears have come true and our life together is over. I want you to know that after I fell in love with you, I gave them nothing of any import that they could use against you or the president you so faithfully serve. I purposely steered our conversations away from your work so you wouldn’t inadvertently say something I could potentially use to harm you or the president. If I didn’t know, I couldn’t report, even if they tortured me. I dried up on them, which infuriated them.

  They were never angrier than after I conceived our beautiful baby girl. That wasn’t part of the plan, and they tried to force me to have an abortion. I refused, and they made threats against me, you, the baby. I was afraid all the time. I so wanted to tell you what was happening, but I was far more afraid of losing you once you learned the truth about me than I was of whatever the Patterson family might do to me. If you’ve discovered the tracking device I had implanted in our baby, now you know why I did it. They’ve been threatening to take her away from me since the day she was born, and there was nothing—and I do mean nothing—I wouldn’t do to protect her.

  If I’m dead, tell the police to talk to Jerry Smith. He’s the one they send to ‘remind’ me every now and then of my obligation to the Patterson family and how prepared they are to ruin my father’s reputation at any time if I continue to be uncooperative. Colton and Christian set the whole thing up with the help of their assistants, Porter Gillespie and Jonathan Thayer. Arnie didn’t do any of the heavy lifting, but he was well aware of what was going on. If I’m dead, one of them gave the order and they all knew about it. Tell the cops to take a close look at Patterson Financial. Something is rotten there, and my dad had the documents to prove it. The truth could be uncovered with the right questions.

  * * *

  Sam looked at Derek. “Victoria handed us the one thing we didn’t have—a direct connect
ion between her role in this and the Patterson family.” Sam went to the door, opened it and called for Agent Hill to join them. When he came into the office, Sam told him to close the door and handed him the first two pages of Victoria’s letter while Sam read the final page.

  I don’t have the words to apologize to you, my dearest love, for what I’ve done to you. The time we spent by ourselves and with our daughter were the finest moments of my entire life. I have scores of regrets, but not one of them is about you or the time we spent together. I love you with my whole heart and soul, and I’ll be watching over you and our darling Maeve. I’ll wish you happiness and love and success and all the good things life has to offer. Please don’t be bitter. Please open yourself up to love again with my blessing and fondest hope for your every happiness. Please find it in your heart to forgive me. Please find a way to remember me with love. Yours always, Vic.

  Avery finished the first two pages and took the third from Sam, scanning it and the notarized document that came with it. “I’ll get warrants for Arnie, Christian and Colton Patterson as well as Jonathan Thayer. We’ve got them nailed.”

  “Thanks to Victoria,” Sam said, her gaze fixed on Derek.

  “Yes,” he said, wiping away tears, “thanks to Victoria.”

  Epilogue

  Avery was packing up his Washington hotel room and dreaming of Jamaica when his cell phone rang. He didn’t recognize the local phone number. “Hill.”

  “Agent Hill, this is Marcella, Director Hamilton’s assistant. He’d like to see you at headquarters in an hour. Are you able to get here then?”

  Avery was shocked speechless. A summons to the director’s office was unprecedented. He’d been in the same room with the director a couple of times but had never spoken directly to him. He quickly ran through the last few weeks, trying to determine when or if he’d fucked something up. Wouldn’t he have heard from his own division director if that were the case?

  The bureau had gotten some good press after the Patterson arrests. Hell, the media had done little more than chew over how close the country had come to possibly electing a lying, scheming, cheating, murdering scumbag. It couldn’t be that he’d fucked up something on the arrests, could it? His meticulous attention to detail had ensured there were no screwups. So it couldn’t be that.

  “Agent Hill?”

  Startled out of his musings, he said, “Yes, of course. I’ll be there.”

  “Thank you. We’ll see you then.”

  He rushed for the shower, grabbing his razor on the way in. Forty-five minutes later, he stepped off the Metro at Federal Triangle and hoofed it through sweltering heat to the agency’s Pennsylvania Avenue headquarters. He arrived at the director’s suite with two minutes to spare, so he took a moment to mop the sweat off his face and straighten the tie he’d hastily put on before he left the hotel.

  Marcella was waiting for him and ushered him straight into the director’s inner sanctum.

  The entire thing felt surreal to Avery, as if he’d suddenly stepped onto a movie set and he’d find Jack Nicholson playing the role of the director. But it was the real Troy Hamilton who stood and came around the desk to shake Avery’s hand. It was the real Troy Hamilton who offered Avery a drink and asked him to have a seat as if they were old pals catching up after a long absence.

  “Thanks so much for coming in on short notice,” Troy said after he poured them each two fingers of bourbon. He was tall and broad-shouldered with close-cropped silver hair and intense blue eyes. The man was a living legend in the bureau, and Avery was downright starstruck.

  “It was no problem.”

  “I understand you’re heading off on vacation. I hope I didn’t mess up your plans.”

  He had, but Avery would never admit to that either. Flights could be rescheduled. Meetings with the director came along once in a career, if that. “You didn’t.”

  “I asked you to come in because I wanted to personally thank you for your work on the Kavanaugh case. I understand from Chief Farnsworth and Lieutenant Holland that you played an integral part in building a case against the Pattersons and their associates.”

  Reeling from the fact that Sam had commended his work, Avery wasn’t sure how to reply. “Thank you, sir. That’s nice to hear.”

  Troy propped a large foot encased in a black loafer on the coffee table. “I also heard from Mrs. Bertha Ray, who wanted me to know that you saved her life and showed exceptional compassion when you called with the news of her son’s death. She was afraid you’d get overlooked in all the madness that followed the arrest of Arnie Patterson and his sons.”

  “Oh,” Avery said, astounded. “She said that?”

  Troy nodded and took a swig of his drink. “Her e-mail said she was concerned that if she didn’t write to me, I might never know what an outstanding agent I had in you. But I already knew that. You’ve been on my radar for a while now.”

  “I have?” Avery wanted to shoot himself with his own gun. He sounded like such a jackass, but he hadn’t expected this day to unfold quite this way. He’d expected to be on his way to his favorite beach by now, not listening to Director Hamilton compliment his work. He would’ve guessed the director had never heard his name.

  “Yes, you have. Were you aware that Loring is retiring at the end of the month?”

  The director referred to the agent in charge of the Criminal Investigation Division at headquarters. “No, sir. I hadn’t heard that.”

  “I’d like you to take his place.”

  Avery stared at him as the implications spun through his mind. He’d have to move to Washington. He’d be in regular contact with the MPD and a certain lieutenant, and he’d have to give up his plans to move far, far away from her.

  “Agent Hill?”

  “I’m sorry, sir. You’ve caught me off guard.”

  Troy smiled at that. He went on to describe his goals for the division and his lofty aspirations for Avery’s career.

  While Avery listened intently, all he could think about was remaining in Washington near the woman he loved but couldn’t have. Would he be better off using his newfound cache in the agency to request a transfer to the hinterlands, where he’d never have to see her? Or should he put his career first and do his best to keep his distance from her?

  “Agent Hill?”

  “I was wondering, sir, would I still be able to do some fieldwork?” The idea of sitting in an office all day made him cagey, and it hadn’t even happened yet.

  “You could organize your unit any way you see fit.”

  Avery’s mind whirled as his plan to get the hell out of Washington was upended by an unexpected promotion.

  “Can I count on you to take on the CID?” Hamilton asked.

  Avery’s better judgment was urging him to cite personal reasons and request a transfer, ideally to the West Coast, where there was no chance he’d ever see her again. But while his brain was sending that message loud and clear, Avery’s heart was telling him to stay where he might cross paths with her once in a while. It was better than nothing, or so he told himself. He couldn’t believe he was basing the biggest decision of his career on a woman who’d never be his. If he’d been looking for proof that he’d lost what was left of his mind, there it was.

  The word “no” was on the tip of his tongue. But that wasn’t what came out of his mouth.

  “Yes, sir,” he said. “I’d be honored.”

  “Excellent. Your first order of business will be briefing the president on how Arnie Patterson and his organization managed to infiltrate the Nelson camp. He’s looking for an assessment of the damages to his campaign. Are you prepared to report on the case?”

  As images of his favorite beach in Jamaica flashed through his mind, Avery said, “Yes, sir.”

  * * *

  The roar of the crowd was so deafening Sam could barely hear herself think, let alone hear what Nick was saying. Luckily, she’d heard the speech so often in the last couple of weeks that she had it memorized. The roar, she t
old herself, meant it was being well received.

  Terry O’Connor flashed a big grin and a thumbs-up to Sam and Christina. Graham and Laine had been forced to sit out the convention after they were hit with the flu. Nick and Terry had joked earlier about what a mood Graham must be in to be missing out on being there for Nick’s big moment. “Better Mom is babysitting him than me,” Terry had said, making them all laugh.

  “This is crazy,” Scotty said to Sam, his grin a mile wide as he stood next to her in the wings, waiting for their signal from the stage manager.

  “You’re sure you’re up for going out there?” Sam asked, not at all sure that she was. Trying to imagine walking across the huge stage to join her husband in front of all those people had kept her awake the last few nights. She’d pictured breaking a heel and sprawling on her face in front of the thousands in the massive ballroom and millions on TV. She’d taken an endless amount of grief from her colleagues at the MPD about her prime-time debut. For that reason alone, falling wasn’t an option.

  “I’m so excited,” Scotty said. “This is the coolest thing I’ve ever gotten to do.”

  What did he have to worry about? He wasn’t wearing the three-inch heels that Shelby had talked her into in a moment of supreme weakness. At least they weren’t pink. Sam was thankful for small favors. The red dress the Nelson campaign stylists had chosen for her would complement the red stripes on Nick’s tie and Scotty’s. People were actually paid to think of such details. How boring their lives must be compared to hers.

  Her name had been all over the media—again—after she’d helped to take down the Patterson family and Arnie’s campaign. The twenty-four-hour news cycle had devoured the story of a campaign so driven by ambition they’d plotted and schemed and killed to get a leg up. The SEC was poring through the records at Patterson Financial, and parallels had been repeatedly drawn to Watergate. Arnie’s comment about sex and power was broadcast over and over and over again until Sam reached the point where she’d actually gotten sick of hearing about the Patterson family.