by Don Easton
Damien gave Jack his phone number, which Laura copied into her notebook.
Jack spoke into his phone again. “I’ll call you right back.” He hung up and dialled the number Damien had given him.
Seconds later Damien said, “It’s vibrating.”
“Answer it,” Jack ordered.
Damien took his phone from his pocket and answered.
“Good, number confirmed.” Jack smiled as Damien hung up. “Don’t bother putting it away. You’re going to find your next call really interesting. It’ll be from your lawyer.”
“Basil is going to have a field day with you,” Damien said, placing his phone on the coffee table.
“Basil?” Jack asked. “Hang on, another call.” He looked at his call display, glanced at Laura, and said, “From team three. I have to take it. Call team two and give them Damien’s number.”
Laura dutifully took her phone from her purse and pretended to make a call as she walked to the far side of the room.
Jack, pretending to have received another call, allowed Damien to hear bits of his conversation. “Yes … that’s great. I spoke with team two a minute ago. They’re viewing the files as we speak. How about you, are the files there? … Perfect. Thank you. If you’re sitting on the beach later, have a margarita on me. I’ll pay for it when you return.”
Damien’s face revealed concern and he glanced suspiciously at Vicki, then back at Jack.
Jack beamed with delight. He dropped his phone into his inside jacket pocket and sang out, “‘Oh, what a beautiful morning, oh, what a beautiful day.’”
“Jack,” Laura said urgently from across the room, still gripping her own phone to her ear.
Jack appeared not to hear as he smiled at Damien and Vicki.
“Jack!” Laura repeated, then spoke into her phone. “Give us a minute. I’ll have him call you back.” She put the phone back in her purse.
“What is it?” Jack asked joyfully.
“I need to see you alone,” Laura replied.
Jack crossed the distance between them and playfully placed one hand on her shoulder. “Laura! I’m a married man!”
Laura’s expression said she wasn’t amused. She slammed the palm of her hand on his chest, shoving him backward. “There’s a problem at team two,” she said tersely.
Jack tensed, then gestured for her to follow him to the foyer where they could talk in private. As they did so, Damien’s phone vibrated on the coffee table. Upon hearing the phone, Jack looked back and said, “Go ahead, answer it.”
Damien picked up his phone. “Hello?” He saw Jack watching him from the foyer while talking quietly with Laura. “Hello?” he repeated.
It was Jack’s voice that Damien heard on his phone. He heard Jack whisper to Laura, “So what’s up? Team two told me the files were there exactly as we’d told them.”
Damien had seen Jack put his phone in his inside jacket pocket before Laura shoved him. Now he believed that Laura had accidentally hit the redial button on Jack’s phone.
“It’s not that. It’s Cummings,” he heard Laura say.
“Look, Cummings is talking to Damien now.” Jack and Laura looked over at Damien. “He looks white as a ghost,” Jack noted.
“So would I if I were about to lose every dollar I ever made,” Laura said.
“So what’s the problem?” Jack asked, turning to face Laura.
“Cummings wants to be charged,” Laura said.
“What do you mean, he wants to be charged? I told him we’d make it look like there wasn’t enough evidence to prove he knew he was laundering money.”
“He got cold feet,” Laura replied. “He thinks if he isn’t charged, Damien will clue in that he ratted. He wants us to charge him.”
“What about the other guy he was laundering money for? The deal was we wouldn’t charge him or Cummings.”
“No change there,” Damien heard Laura reply. “If we charge him, Damien might clue in as to how we found out about Cummings.”
“The plan was that we’d make Damien think it was the Mexican lawyer who ratted him out,” Jack said.
“Cummings is afraid that isn’t enough.”
“Charging him would certainly tie in with the conspiracy charges,” Jack said, turning to stare across the room at Damien, who had his phone glued to his ear. The combination of angst and anger upon Damien’s face was clearly evident.
“It’s hard to believe that Cummings would risk going to jail and losing his licence. He must be really scared,” Laura said.
“My guess is he’s gambling that he’ll beat us in court,” Jack replied.
“Perhaps from his point of view, it’s a small price to wager if he thinks it’ll save his life. What do you want to do?”
“Do? This is great. I never liked the idea of letting Cummings off in the first place. Call team two back while he’s still on the phone with Damien and tell them to slip him a note to say he’s being charged, too.”
Laura pretended to make another call while Jack walked back into the living room. As he did Damien hung up. “Hanging up so soon?” Jack asked.
“I heard what I needed to hear,” Damien replied gruffly. He then sat back on the sofa and folded his arms across his chest in an apparent attempt to control his emotions.
“Somebody want to tell me what the hell is going on?” Vicki demanded. “What’s this bullshit about money laundering and tax evasion? What’s that got to do with Buck?”
“This isn’t about Buck,” Jack said. “It’s about Damien — and you, considering your name’s on the business documents we found.”
“What’re you talking about?” Vicki demanded, casting an anxious glance at her husband.
“Right now we’re conducting searches here, Irving Cummings’s office, and at the office of Charles Bentley in Road Town, BVI.”
Vicki gasped, then looked at Damien.
“Keep quiet,” Damien cautioned. “Not a word until we speak to our lawyer.”
“Which one?” Jack asked facetiously. “Basil Westmount, Irving Cummings, Charles Bentley … or Francisco Lopez in Chihuahua, Mexico?”
Damien’s nostrils flared like an angry bull and the muscles on his jaw rippled as he clenched his teeth.
“Oh, by the way,” Jack said, “we’re not searching Lopez’s office immediately, because of all the corruption down there.” He glanced at Laura and added, “As much as I really hate to see some guy like that get away with what he’s been doing.”
Laura exchanged a knowing look with Jack, then gave an almost imperceptible nod, as if that comment was something to be ticked off a list.
Damien’s eyebrows knitted together, heavy creases forming above them. One lip curled above an eye tooth like a dog about to attack … but he said nothing.
Jack hid his smile. His comment was intended to make it appear that he was trying to make Lopez look like the one who talked in order to protect Cummings. By the expression on Damien’s face, Jack knew he’d succeeded. Cummings, I’d suggest you get your affairs in order.
Chapter Thirty-Five
“So we’re being arrested?” Vicki asked.
“Not at the moment,” Jack said, “but I expect you will be within the next week once formal charges are laid.” He smiled. “Perhaps that’ll give you time to find a good legal-aid lawyer, seeing as we’ll be seizing everything you own, including your money, passports, vehicles, all your possessions … and your house.”
“What do you mean, our house?” Vicki screamed.
“Proceeds of crime,” Jack replied bluntly. “You’ll be allowed to live here for a short time while the paperwork makes its way through court. We’ll kindly leave you your bed, kitchen table, and two chairs in the meantime.”
“You can’t do that!” She leaped to her feet and turned to Damien, who sat in stunned silence. “Do something! I’
m not going to stand here and watch this happen! This is our house!” She gestured to the family photos on the fireplace mantel. “We raised our children here, for God’s sake!”
“You don’t have to watch us,” Jack said. “You’re not under arrest and as the search teams are already doing what needs to be done, you’re free to leave. Considering how upset you are, I think it’d be a good idea.”
Vicki ignored Jack and continued to stare at Damien. “Do something!” she cried again. “He can’t get away with this!” When Damien didn’t respond immediately, she asked, “Can he?”
Damien took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “They’ve got a warrant to do what they’re doing now, but I’ll be talking to a lawyer. In the meantime why don’t you go to your sister’s and I’ll call you later.”
Vicki swung to face Jack again. “You bastard!” she shouted. “You’re not going to get away with this!”
“I’d suggest you heed your husband’s advice and leave,” Jack said. He glanced at Laura. “Go with her and watch her get dressed. Don’t let her near any computers.”
Laura nodded, then escorted Vicki up a large staircase to the second floor, where they walked down a hallway open to the living room below. A moment later they disappeared behind a set of French doors.
“Okay, so where do we start?” Sammy asked as he glanced around the living room.
“I’ll call I-POC and tell them to come in,” Jack told him. “The ball will be in their court as to how they want to proceed. I suspect they’ll be videoing and documenting everything, as well.”
“I’m used to looking for dope,” Benny said. “This is something new for me.”
“I doubt you’ll find any dope here.” Jack glanced at Damien for confirmation, but the man was staring off into space, apparently lost in thought. His face was dark with rage and a vein on his temple pulsed visibly. Good, you bastard. Hope you have a heart attack.
Jack went to the foyer, where he would not be overheard, and called Corporal David Cash, the guy in charge of the I-POC team awaiting access to the house. To cover standard procedure he told Cash that Sammy and Benny had arrived and that they were currently being let into Damien’s estate. He said that he’d call again once the house was secure.
Jack returned to the living room at the same time Laura brought Vicki back down the stairs. He ignored the look of hatred on Vicki’s face and glanced at Sammy and Benny. “I-POC will arrive in a couple of minutes. I told them we were letting Vicki leave and they could enter at the same time she heads out the gate.” He swung his gaze to Vicki, who was retrieving her coat and purse from a hall closet, then turned back to Sammy. “We may as well hang tight until they get in, then decide how to break up the search team.”
“So what exactly will I be looking for?” Benny asked.
“Any financial documents,” Jack replied. “And any computer flash sticks that might be hidden.”
“Computer flash sticks,” Sammy murmured as he gazed around. “Talk about a needle in a haystack.”
“You’re right about that,” Jack agreed. He walked over to the fireplace mantel and looked at the family pictures. Amongst the grouping, he saw a framed picture of their daughter Sarah, who had died a few years earlier from meningitis. He remembered what Vicki had told him. I keep Sarah’s picture on our fireplace mantel and talk to her every day, wanting to believe she’s still alive, that she still lives here. He picked up the picture and glanced at Benny as he turned it over. “A flash stick could be hidden in something as innocuous as the back of this.” As he spoke he carefully slid the black cardboard backing from the frame to take a look.
“You don’t touch that!” Vicki screamed from across the room. “Damien! He’s not getting that!”
“Calm down,” Jack ordered. “We can take or search anything — Oh, crap.” The picture fell from his hands, landing face down on the tiled apron in front of the fireplace. There was the sound of breaking glass. “I’m sorry,” he said, squatting and carefully picking up the frame with both hands in an attempt to keep the broken glass from falling out.
“You did that on purpose!” Vicki bolted across the living room toward Jack.
Jack concentrated on the picture as he rose. “No, I really didn’t. I’m sorry if —”
Damien jumped to his feet with an outstretched arm. “Vicki! No!” he roared.
Jack glanced up. Vicki was nearly upon him and Laura was in close pursuit. He was too late to defend himself. Vicki had flung her purse to the floor and he felt the muzzle of a pistol being rammed into his chest over his heart — then heard the blast when she pulled the trigger.
The blast was only one of a cacophony of sounds in the room. The air burst from Jack’s lungs, making a horrible wheezing sound as his lungs fought to regain oxygen. The picture smashed to the floor again while he gasped and clutched his chest with one hand.
At the same time Laura screamed and grabbed Vicki’s wrist while tackling her to the floor. The thud of them landing was echoed by another thud of Jack’s body collapsing face down beside them.
Sammy and Benny drew their pistols and aimed them at Vicki, only to hesitate when they saw she was sprawled on her back with Laura sitting on top of her.
Damien, mouth agape, took a step forward. He stopped when Sammy pointed his pistol at him and yelled, “Hands on your head and don’t move!”
Vicki still held the gun, but Laura had her wrist pinned to the floor and Benny took a step in their direction to help. It wasn’t necessary. Laura glanced at Jack’s prone body, then emitted a scream of retribution and drove her fist hard into Vicki’s sternum. The pistol fell from her hand.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Corporal David Cash, sitting behind the wheel of his car parked four blocks away, glanced at his watch. Three other I-POC team investigators sat in the car with him. “What the hell is taking them so long?” he grumbled.
“Jack and Laura have a long history with this guy,” said the investigator beside him. “How much do you want to bet that they’re sitting around the kitchen table with him having a coffee while trying to gain some so-called intelligence?”
“Yeah, things like, gee, when does the next annual Labor Day ride take place?” chimed in a third voice from the back seat.
A few chuckles broke out.
Benny scooped up Vicki’s pistol from where it had fallen as Laura pulled back her fist to strike again. She then caught sight of Benny. “Don’t just stand there!” she screamed. “Call an ambulance! Start CPR!” She looked at Vicki. “I’ll deal with this bitch.”
Vicki coughed and gasped for air while squirming and twisting her body in an attempt to protect herself.
Laura hesitated, then lowered her fist and pinned Vicki’s other wrist to the floor as her own body convulsed with sobs.
Benny fumbled to take his phone out of his pocket.
“Sit back down and keep your hands on your head!” Sammy yelled, gesturing with the muzzle of his pistol for Damien to return to the sofa.
Damien sat down as Benny punched in the first number on his phone.
“Wait,” Jack gasped. “I … I think I’m okay.”
Laura gave an unintelligible cry.
“Oh, God, thank you,” Damien uttered.
Jack groaned and slowly rose to his hands and knees on the floor.
“You’re not hurt?” Benny questioned, dropping to one knee beside Jack.
“Looks like I picked a good day to wear my vest,” Jack replied. He then sat back on his haunches and pulled up his sweater. A bullet hole was visible on the Kevlar vest over his heart. He shoved his hand inside, then slowly removed it and looked at his fingers. “No blood,” he announced, getting to his feet.
“Oh, Jack … Jack, I’m sorry,” Laura said.
Jack looked at Laura and his face darkened with anger. “What the hell were you doing allowing her to grab her purse
without searching it? You knew she was pissed at me!”
“I — I’m sorry. It was my mistake. It happened so fast I —”
“You’re damn right it was your mistake! The kind of mistake that gets people killed!” He rose to his feet. “Get off her and cuff her,” he ordered. “It could be the last arrest you ever make. Once my report goes in, you’ll be spending the rest of your career pushing a pencil. That’s if you still have a job.”
Laura opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. The hurt in her eyes and the tears on her cheeks spoke for her. She closed her mouth, nodded, then stood up while emitting a sob.
“Come to think of it,” Jack said, “Benny, you arrest Vicki and bring her in. Laura doesn’t deserve the honour.” Laura emitted another sob and he jabbed her in the chest with his finger. “Go wait in the kitchen! I don’t want to even look at you.”
Silence descended on the room as Laura hurried to the kitchen. Benny then grabbed Vicki by the arm and pulled her to her feet.
Damien stared up at Vicki as she was being handcuffed. “Why?” he asked. “Why’d you do it?”
“Because … because …” Vicki started to tremble. “He smashed Sarah’s picture,” she cried. “He’s taking all our money … our house … okay. Maybe I could deal with that. But smashing Sarah’s picture …”
“We’ve scanned copies of it on the computer,” Damien said.
“I know but … it’s like she died all over again and he killed her!” she blubbered. She shook her head in self-recrimination. “Oh, Papa Bear, what’ve I done?”
The pain on Damien’s face was obvious. He squeezed his eyes shut, but when he opened them, it was as if his emotions had been flushed away. “She has the right to a lawyer,” he stated firmly. “I demand to call a lawyer immediately and have him there when she’s brought in.”
