Funny Money

by Traci DePree

  “The dance studio has been good for that too,” Audrey added.

  Hal set his menu down and smiled at his wife.

  “Where did you say you worked before?” Paul asked Hal, his blue eyes alight with interest.

  “I was a broker in New York.”

  “He was a top-selling broker,” Audrey added. “He broke a million dollars in profits when he was just twenty-four.” She glowed with pride at her husband.

  “How long did you do that?” Kate asked.

  “Let’s see...Well, I was in New York for thirty years. So about that long. It was a livin’.”

  The way he said livin’ reminded Kate of Texas. There was a hint of a twang at the end of the word.

  “Have you ever lived in the South?” she asked.

  Hal paused for a moment as if the question surprised him, then he smiled. “How did you guess that? I spent my growin’-up years in Fort Worth, and a few years shortly after we married.”

  “I recognized a bit of the twang in your voice. I was born and raised there, and we lived in San Antonio for many years before coming here.”

  “No kidding?” Audrey seemed delighted at the coincidence. “We have a lot of friends and family back there. How about you?”

  “Friends,” Kate said. “And some extended family on my side, but Paul’s family was from this area. Our children have scattered to the winds.”

  The waiter arrived with their drinks and took their food orders, then scooted to the next table.

  “How many children do you have?” Audrey asked.

  Kate and Paul told them about their three grown children—Andrew, a married real estate attorney in Philadelphia, with two kids of his own; Melissa, also married with a baby daughter, in Atlanta; and Rebecca, the youngest Hanlon offspring, who was single and living in New York City, doing her best to break through as an actress on Broadway.

  Audrey’s expression sobered. “We weren’t able to have children. I guess that’s why the dance studio is so important to me. I get to teach children as well as adults.”

  How different life would’ve been if Kate and Paul hadn’t had children, she thought. Would they have made the same choices, lived in the same places? No doubt such a reality would have changed every aspect of their lives and their marriage.

  Their meals arrived—scallops and red snapper, prime rib and linguini. The scent was intoxicating, and the table fell silent as everyone dug in.

  It was Hal who broke the silence. “So what’s happening with that fellow from church? The one that was arrested?” He sliced a piece of rare prime rib as he spoke.

  “It’s devastating, really,” Paul began. “Their son Jake has spent his short life in and out of hospitals. And now this...The authorities say there’s enough evidence to convict Tim.”

  “Tim’s wife and son are the ones who are really taking the brunt,” Kate added. “The bank fired Tim, and Amy’s looking for jobs. Without his income, I don’t know what they’ll do.”

  “Has she had any luck?” Audrey asked.

  Kate shook her head.

  Audrey sat back in thought, then her face lit in a smile. “Maybe we could hire her to help at the studio.” She turned toward her husband for affirmation. “She could answer phones, sign up new enrollees, clean a little.”

  “That would be amazing,” Kate said.

  “It wouldn’t be enough to cover all their costs, I’m sure,” Audrey went on. “But it could help. I’ll call her first thing in the morning.”

  When the bill arrived, Hal reached for it immediately.

  “As I recall, we were the ones who invited you,” Paul said.

  “I know how much pastors make,” Hal said without a hint of arrogance in his voice.

  AS THEY DROVE BACK to the Harpers’ to pick up Kate’s car, the sounds of gentle jazz flowing from the radio, Audrey said, “Have you made up your minds about entering the beginners’ competition? The deadline for signing up is this week.”

  “I don’t know...,” Paul said.

  “But seeing other beginners out there will give you a boost of confidence,” Audrey said. She turned in her seat to look at them. “That’s really the whole point of the competition, you know. It will help you to see that compared to other beginners, you two really are good. I see a lot of potential in you. You know the Cline sisters are competing, don’t you?”

  “Have they found partners?” Paul asked.

  “No. They’ve been working up routines with Hal for now. Of course, as an instructor, he isn’t permitted to compete in the competition, so they’ll have to find partners soon.”

  “What will they do if they can’t find partners?” Paul asked.

  “Have you met those two women?” Audrey said, “I have no doubt they’ll be able to persuade someone to join them.”

  “What do you think?” Kate turned to Paul. “It might be fun.”

  “Oh, all right,” he conceded. “But no photographs. The last thing I need is to have something like that circulating in the Copper Mill Chronicle.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Thank you!” Amy chirped when Kate answered the phone the next day. The excitement in her voice was unmistakable.

  “What did I do?” Kate wiped the flour from her hands. She’d been baking cinnamon buns when the phone had rung.

  “You found me a job at the dance studio! And it’s perfect. It’s really flexible. I’ll even be able to keep homeschooling Jake in the back room while I answer phones and clean.”

  “I’m so glad for you,” Kate said. “It was all Audrey’s idea.”

  “Well, if you hadn’t mentioned that I was looking, I wouldn’t have gotten it. I can’t thank you enough,” she said. It was good to hear joy in her voice.

  AS KATE MADE BREAKFAST Saturday morning, she thought of a question that had yet to be answered. By that afternoon, she and Livvy had printed out directions and were headed to one of the big computer stores in Chattanooga.

  “So what exactly are we doing again?” Livvy asked, switching into the left lane.

  “I was doing a bit more research on that scanner they took from Tim’s house,” Kate explained, looking out the passenger-side window of Livvy’s SUV. “It seems the manufacturer installed anticounterfeit devices on it at the factory.”

  “Meaning what?” Livvy said, glancing at her as she made a turn.

  “Meaning that at least when it was new, Tim Lourdes’ scanner was built to detect if someone was attempting to reproduce money, and it would automatically halt the activity. It even had built-in reporting systems.”

  “It would e-mail the authorities?” Livvy said as if she couldn’t fathom such a thing. “Software that tells the police if illegal activities are afoot? Talk about Big Brother!”

  Kate smiled. “And that’s on a standard scanner!” She paused. “Just think about what a high-end scanner would do. It means it would be all the harder for the scans to end up on Tim’s system. Things just don’t add up.”

  “Could he have overwritten the software, hacked into it somehow? Or used a different scanner?” Livvy asked as she drove.

  “That’s the question, isn’t it?”

  THE COMPUTER STORE was on Gunbarrel Road, a name Kate found to be completely ironic given the nature of their visit. A red-vested employee met them at the door.

  “Can I help you ladies?” the young man with curly bright red hair said.

  “I don’t know,” Kate began. “We have some questions about a particular scanner and printer.”

  “Sure.” He led them to the computer section of the store, then stood expectantly, as if waiting for them to pick out a brand and model.

  “We aren’t in the market to buy them,” Kate explained.

  His face scrunched in confusion.

  “We’re actually doing some research on a counterfeit money operation,” Livvy clarified.

  The man’s confusion only increased.

  Kate cleared her throat. “We’re not looking to make...I mean...” She wasn’
t sure how to word it. “Maybe the people we need are on your technology assistance team.”

  Relief filled his face. “Right over here.” He pointed them to the customer service counter to their left.

  Kate managed to explain the situation to the technician, a dark-haired young man with a deep cleft in his chin.

  “What was the model?” he asked, running his fingers through unruly hair.

  Kate handed him the user’s guide with all the details on Tim’s scanner and printer. He studied it for a moment before bringing the information up on his monitor. Then he punched in the Web site Kate mentioned that dealt with the specifications on counterfeiting.

  “I saw on one of your sites,” Kate said while the man read, “that some scanners have built-in safeguards to keep people from scanning and reproducing money.”

  He nodded absently. “ACDs—anticounterfeiting devices. Not all have them, but a few brands do.” He clicked around on his computer screen. “This is one of them, though.” He nodded again, repeating essentially what Kate had told Livvy about the scanners on the drive to Chattanooga.

  He clicked around on the screen for a few more minutes. “That’s interesting,” he said.

  “What?” Kate stretched to see the screen.

  “Take a look at this.” He turned the monitor so Kate and Livvy could have a better look. “The dpi—or dots per inch—that this particular printer is capable of...Well, let’s just say your money would’ve looked like mud compared to a real dollar bill if it was printed on that printer.”

  KATE CALLED AMY when they were minutes outside of Copper Mill. She held the printouts the IT expert had given her regarding the scanning and printing capabilities of Tim’s hardware in her lap. He’d made extra copies so Kate could give a set to Tim’s attorney.

  “I think we have enough to get Tim off,” Kate said to Amy.

  “How?”

  Kate explained everything she’d learned about the dpi limitations of Tim’s printer and the anticounterfeiting device on the scanner.

  “That’s great.” But instead of sounding pleased, Amy sounded deflated.

  “What’s wrong? I thought you’d be happy,” Kate said.

  “I just got a call from Tim’s lawyer. The Secret Service has uncovered some sort of print shop.”

  A metal ball sank in Kate’s stomach. “Where?”

  “I’m headed out the door to go there right now. It’s in a storage facility outside of town, rented in Tim’s name. He didn’t do this, Kate. I know it looks really bad. But someone is setting him up. I promise you.”

  Kate wasn’t sure what to believe anymore.

  BY THE TIME KATE AND LIVVY made it to the address, Amy was there. The door to the facility was closed, though four men stood out front talking, including agents Norris and Wimper; Tim’s attorney, Lincoln Finch; and the district attorney whom Kate recognized from past cases.

  The SUV’s tires crunched on gravel as Livvy parked alongside the agents’ dark sedan. The women got out, and the men nodded in acknowledgment. Kate could see that Jake was asleep in Amy’s car.

  Lincoln Finch came up alongside Kate, Livvy and Amy. “This doesn’t look good.”

  “What did they find?” Amy got to the point. Her forehead wrinkled, and her face was strained.

  “A smoking gun,” the agent said from behind them. “There’s a full print shop in there.” He pointed with pursed lips.

  “How did they connect this to Tim?” Kate asked.

  “Other than his signature being on the storage lease, dated two months ago?” Finch said.

  “Do you have a copy of the contract?” Amy asked Finch. He handed her the paperwork, which she shuffled through.

  “Wait,” Amy said, her face scrunched. “This isn’t Tim’s signature.” Her voice was angry. She shoved the paper toward the man and pointed at the signature line.

  “We’ll get an analysis on that signature,” the lawyer said calmly to Amy as he took the document.

  Kate wondered why the Secret Service hadn’t checked the signature and then looked directly at Finch and said, “The equipment they seized—the scanner, printer and computer—it isn’t capable of the things they’re saying he did. It even had ACDs preprogrammed into it. There wasn’t a ream of paper in the house, much less the expensive rag paper he would’ve needed to create the bills—”

  “This print shop pretty much makes that irrelevant, Mrs. Hanlon,” Agent Norris interrupted. “I recommend that you leave the investigating to the authorities. Take a look at that print shop in there; it’s full of Tim Lourdes’ stuff.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Kate and Paul met the Cline sisters at the studio for their competition practice, a now-daily event between the hours of seven and eight o’clock in the morning, at least that week. With the contest coming up in just under four weeks, they needed to get a routine down. Amy waved at them as they practiced, then she disappeared into the back room.

  Paul seemed frustrated, though Kate had to admit he was a trooper. If he missed a step, he’d smile and shrug his shoulders, then carry on.

  The dance Audrey had chosen for them was the Viennese waltz, one of the most classic styles. While the dance looked simple enough, with its up-and-down glides across the floor, it required a level of concentration Kate hadn’t had to call on since she’d first taken up stained-glass work.

  Kate stood tall, back straight, as Paul led her into the quick-paced pattern. Meanwhile, Hal was practicing with each of the Cline sisters in turn. He took Evelyn in his arms and went through the routine as Georgia looked on.

  “You’re running out of time,” Audrey was saying from across the room. “Your partners won’t have time to memorize the routine if you don’t choose them soon.”

  “We’ve asked every male in Copper Mill.” Georgia turned to her, frustration etched in the lines of her face.

  “Maybe you’re not looking in the right places,” Audrey returned. “You should go where people are already dancing, like the VFW.”

  The music stopped, so Kate and Paul took a break, going to stand with the irked twin.

  “Of course, I know we need to find partners,” she was saying under her breath. “I’ve been looking!” She turned to Kate. “This is so important to Evelyn. Of course I’ve been looking.”

  Kate tilted her head. “This is important to Evelyn?” she said, surprised at the younger twin’s change of heart. Hadn’t Evelyn said she was dancing to please Georgia?

  “When we were younger...” Georgia clasped a hand to her chest as she spoke. Evelyn and Hal were working through a tricky turn on the other side of the room. “Our mother signed us up for dance. For five years we studied.”

  She glanced at her sister and Hal as she whispered. “Evelyn was quite good too, and devoted, but her partner, a young man whom she was quite smitten with, left her for a tap dancer. It was devastating! Poor Evelyn hasn’t danced again until now. So, you see, this is a monumental step for her, a chance for her to put the past behind her!”

  “If you can find partners,” Paul added.

  “Exactly.”

  HOW HAVE I BEEN wrangled into this? Kate thought as she, Evelyn and Georgia Cline entered the depths of the Pine Ridge VFW.

  Housed in a gray cinder block building, the VFW smelled both musty and smoky. The front door was padded burgundy vinyl with a small diamond-shaped window carved into its top, and the interior of the place fit its introduction. With wood paneling, green carpet and orange vinyl booths, the VFW was straight out of the seventies. The word Naugahyde came to mind.

  “Where do you want to sit?” Evelyn asked Kate.

  Kate shrugged. “Anywhere is fine. I’m just here to provide moral support.”

  Georgia was in the lead, not looking back once to see if they followed. She took them straight to the tables that surrounded the dance floor, where several gray-haired couples were waltzing. Each took a chair, and Georgia craned her neck to glance around. A teenage girl with braces on her teeth and pigtails
that rode high on each side of her head stopped at the table to take their soda orders, then moved to the next table.

  “So what do we do?” Evelyn asked. She kept her hand in front of her face and her head tilted toward the floor as if she were trying to hide.

  “Don’t ask me. It’s been a long time since I’ve been out looking for a date,” Kate said.

  “We’re not looking for dates!” Georgia protested, her blue hair jiggling as she shook her head. “We’re looking for dance partners. We have to make that clear from the start. We don’t need that monkey business.”

  She chuckled, her eyes drifting over the other tables. Most of the customers were gray or bald, though there were a couple of younger men. But even they looked to be in their fifties.

  “Why did you want me to come again?” Kate asked Georgia.

  The blue-haired bank teller gazed at Kate for a moment before answering, and when she did talk, it was in a slightly condescending tone. “You’re a pastor’s wife, Kate.”

  “I know that.” Kate grinned. “That’s why it seems a bit unusual, don’t you think?”

  “Well, if people see that you’re with us, we’ll be less likely to attract the wrong kind of men.”

  Kate laughed a bit too loudly. Several heads turned toward her, so she lowered her voice. “So I’m your security blanket?”

  “It’s not funny.” Georgia kept a straight face. Then she pointed. “Is that who I think it is?”

  There on the dance floor doing the cha-cha under the disco ball’s flickering lights was Joe Tucker, a faithful member of Faith Briar Church. Because he usually walked with a cane, the sight was more than surprising.

  Instead of the awkward movements Kate would have expected, the music seemed to transport the man and give him a sort of elegance. He still used the cane as he moved, of course, but it struck Kate as something Fred Astaire would have done in one of his movies to make the performance that much more entertaining. Kate’s jaw dropped as she watched the woodsman move through the complicated dance.

  When he finished, he and his petite gray-haired partner moved to a table at the opposite side of the polished floor where another couple sat. At first Kate didn’t recognize them either, though something seemed familiar about the man. He had a long gray beard that reached halfway down his belly. Then she realized the man was her mail carrier. The only name she knew him by was Fish.