Funny Money

by Traci DePree

  “I know it’s hard for her to be away so much right now with Jake in Chattanooga,” Audrey said. “I promised her that her job will be waiting when Jake is all better.”

  Kate watched her as they reached the outskirts of Pine Ridge. Audrey fingered the pearl necklace at her throat.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Kate and Paul had just settled down to a home-cooked lasagna lunch the next day when a knock sounded on the door. Placing her napkin next to her plate, she went to answer it. It was Audrey Harper.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t call first,” Audrey said, her gray head bobbing. “Is this a bad time?”

  “Come on in.” Kate motioned her inside.

  Audrey held a framed painting in her hands.

  “Oh, you’re probably eating,” she said, glancing at her watch. “I can come back another time.”

  “Nonsense,” Kate said. “Come on in. What do you have there?”

  Audrey held up the painting, a watercolor in shades of gray and blue. In it the Smoky Mountains stretched to a faded horizon. The only colors were autumn leaves on the trees in the foreground. It was quite stunning, actually, and Kate paused as she considered it.

  “You painted this?” she said.

  “Yes...I remembered what you said about doing stained glass, and I thought I’d see if there was any way you could translate this into a window for my pantry door.”

  She handed the painting to Kate, who led the way to her studio. Paul came from the kitchen and waved to Audrey before returning to his meal.

  Kate laid the painting on the light table and turned on the light. “This is lovely.” She studied it closer, with an eye to what she would need to do to turn it into a window. “This would be very doable. Do you want to pick out the glass for it?” She pointed to the rack along the far wall with its rainbow of glass choices.

  Audrey moved to the rack and oohed over the selection, holding up one piece after the next, searching for the right texture and color to give the effect she was after.

  “Is it okay if I take this out of the frame?” Kate said of the painting. “I need to draw up a stencil, and it’d be easier.”

  “By all means,” Audrey said, coming alongside her and turning the frame over. She turned up the clips that held it in place and pulled out the paper.

  “Is this regular watercolor paper?” Kate was surprised at its texture. Instead of the heavier watercolor paper she was used to, it was a thin sheet.

  “It’s rag paper,” Audrey said, nodding her head. “I like it because it doesn’t curl or get wavy like other papers.”

  Rag paper. The same paper used to make counterfeit bills.

  ONCE AUDREY HAD PICKED OUT her glass choices and approved the quick stencil that Kate drew up, she left for home. Kate then went straight to her computer that lay closed on the kitchen counter. Booting it up, she waited until the machine confirmed that she was connected to the Internet.

  Pulling up the Google search page, she typed in the name she’d seen on the package on Audrey’s stoop—“NexTag”—along with the word paper. Several links popped up, including three that went straight to the NexTag page. Kate clicked on the link. The site was cluttered with listings of their many offerings, from items for babies to gifts and travel to jewelry and watches. The site seemed to sell it all.

  “What are you doing?” Paul asked.

  “I’m looking up a company on the Internet.”

  Paul read over her shoulder. “NexTag. What’s that?”

  “Audrey got art supplies from them. The package was on her doorstep when I went to get the pies for the bake sale.”

  “And...?” Paul raised a brow.

  She shrugged. “I’m following a lead.”

  She found the search bar for the NexTag site and typed in “rag paper.” Sure enough, the company sold the expensive paper. “Look at that price,” she showed Paul. It ranged from seventy dollars to almost three hundred dollars for one hundred sheets.

  Paul whistled. “At that price, you’d have to print money on it just to afford it.”

  “I didn’t say I suspected the Harpers of counterfeiting.” Kate looked at her husband. “They’re our friends.”

  “You wouldn’t be looking it up if you didn’t.”

  “YOU WANT TO WHAT?” Livvy said when Kate asked her to come with her the next day.

  “I need to see if my suspicions are correct,” Kate said.

  “Some rag paper, a bleach stain and medicine? That’s all you’re basing your suspicions on? Audrey said the paper was for her artwork; you’ve seen her drawings. I don’t know about this, Kate. It doesn’t seem like very much.”

  Kate sighed. Livvy made a good point. There was more evidence that Millie’s sons were involved. And it felt like a betrayal of their blossoming friendship to suspect Hal and Audrey. After all, of anyone in Copper Mill, they’d been the most giving and open to the Lourdeses, giving Amy a job when no one else would. It would surely be a slap in the face if they found her snooping around.

  “You’re right,” Kate finally admitted. “Would you consider coming with me to Millie’s house then? I want to have a talk with her boys, and I could definitely use some moral support.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Black Labs Dutch and Tillie met Kate’s car when she drove up the Lovelace driveway just as they had on her prior visit. Only this time, the dogs didn’t bark. They must’ve recognized Kate, she figured, because they came up with tongues lolling and tails wagging.

  Kate and Livvy climbed out of the car and petted the large panting dogs on the head before moving toward the small house. One roofline went one way, the next went another. Kate suspected that the Lovelaces had added on to the house as they had more children, or more money.

  She moved ahead to the door, passing several cats that were sunning themselves on the small front porch. Kate knocked, then took a step back as she and Livvy waited for the sound of footsteps. Finally the door creaked open. This was the son Kate had glimpsed at the shed as she’d peeled out of the driveway.

  Buck was much thinner than his brother, nice looking in a disguised sort of way, as if all he needed was a good woman to give him a makeover to reveal his charm.

  He looked at Kate, and his eyes narrowed.

  Kate flinched, then cleared her throat.

  “Hi, Buck. Could Livvy and I talk with you for a sec?” she asked.

  “What’s this about?” He looked from one woman to the other. Then the sound of more footsteps came from behind them.

  “Who is it?”

  Kate knew the voice was Bud’s even before she saw his black-rimmed glasses and his bald head.

  “It’s the pastor’s wife from Faith Briar.”

  “What does she want now?” He sounded irritated.

  Kate exchanged a nervous look with Livvy.

  Buck turned and glared at Kate as if sending the question on to her. Kate inhaled deeply, then looked the young man in the eyes. “We just want to ask you some questions.”

  “Okay...,” Bud said.

  “I wondered if you’d tell us about your trip to Disney World. Your dad said that you surprised them with the vacation?” She worded it as a question.

  Buck crossed his arms over his barrel chest.

  “Oh, chill,” Bud said to him, leading the way into the house. “Come on in.” He waved the women inside.

  “Thank you,” Kate said. “We won’t take a lot of your time.”

  The living room, while a bit cluttered with magazines and newspapers, had a country feel, with handmade afghans stretched across the backs of the several rocking chairs in the room. The couch, a rust-colored floral print, was encased in clear plastic. Kate and Livvy sat on it.

  “So,” Kate began, “what made you decide to take the vacation?”

  “Ma always wanted to go,” Buck said. “Ever since we were little, she talked about going to Disney. She had a thing for that guy in all the Love Bug movies. What was his name?”

  “Dean Jones
,” his brother supplied. He was on the rocker farthest from Kate and Livvy, his arms over his chest and a leery expression in his eyes.

  “That was really nice of you.”

  “She does a lot for us.” Buck shrugged. “And since our business is doing so well, we finally had the money for it.”

  “Business? Your IT business?” Kate said. She watched the brothers, looking for any sign that they felt awkward or uncomfortable, but they seemed more shy than anything else.

  He nodded. “Some, but mostly it’s Geeks in Love.”

  “Geeks in love?” Kate exchanged a surprised look with Livvy.

  “It’s an Internet dating site,” Buck said.

  Bud must’ve noticed Kate’s surprise, because he jumped in. “A lot of people out there are challenged to find a soul mate. The world judges people by how they look, not by their heart. A site like ours allows people to get to know the inside before they judge the outside.” He shrugged. “There are a lot of people who are willing to pay for a safe place to meet.”

  “Do you want to see it?” Buck leaned forward, his brown eyes alight.

  “The Web site?” Livvy said.

  He nodded, and the women agreed.

  Livvy followed behind Kate as they moved down steep stairs into a white concrete block basement. The air smelled musty, and it felt damp, a cold damp. Below was a wide open space that spanned the entire footprint of the house. A Japanese folded divider created separate “bedrooms” with rumpled, unmade queen-sized beds, dressers and TVs in each. Both sets were on. Stacks of dirty laundry grew like stalagmites from the floor. There wasn’t a surface that wasn’t cluttered with papers, interspersed with dishes and half-filled glasses of cola that had lost their fizz.

  Buck turned left at the bottom of the stairs toward two oversized desks that sat side by side, lit by the blue light of fluorescent bulbs.

  “We’ve connected over three hundred couples already,” Buck said proudly as he set up two folding chairs for Kate and Livvy. Bud was booting up the Web site.

  “Who knew you were such romantics?” Livvy said as she took her seat and glanced at the screen.

  Kate wondered if she was teasing, but the expression on her face said she was completely serious.

  Apparently, matchmaking was a thriving business. Page after page of endorsements testified to the accomplishments of the nerdy matchmakers. Buck gave them a virtual tour, starting with a personality-profile test and ending with a photo album of couples who’d tied the knot after finding each other through the site.

  “So this is a profitable business?” Livvy asked.

  Both brothers nodded. “Our profit is well over a hundred grand already this year,” Buck said.

  “Wow,” Kate said, “that’s a chunk of change.”

  She looked around the room for any sign that the Internet business could be a front for a counterfeiting scheme, but nothing struck her as particularly suspicious. Even the printer was void of paper, and the wastebasket beneath it held scraps, but nothing that looked like counterfeit bills.

  Then she noticed that there was a photograph of a woman taped to the upper left-hand corner of the computer. She was blonde, with pale blue eyes.

  “Who’s the pretty girl?” Kate motioned to the picture.

  Buck’s eyes followed. He grinned. “Natasha,” he breathed. “She’s my girlfriend. I met her through the site. She lives in Delaware.”

  Natasha was no dark-haired mystery woman. And she lived in Delaware? Confusion swept through Kate. If she wasn’t the woman passing counterfeit bills, who was?

  “So”—Kate sat back—“can I ask you something else?”

  “Sure,” Buck said, turning to look at her.

  “What’s in the shed out front?”

  Chapter Thirty

  Buck pulled a key chain from his pocket and fit a key into the ancient lock, then opened the door, revealing the dark interior. Dust motes floated in the air above, where the transom windows let in what light there was. He flicked on a lone lightbulb that swung overhead. A large antique machine took up the center of the room. Kate had no idea what it was, though she knew it wasn’t a printing press. They walked around it.

  “It’s a threshing machine,” Buck answered. “It was built in 1889. The real deal. I got it up and running again. It sat in a farmer’s shed for a good thirty years.”

  “What are you going to do with it?” Livvy said, lightly touching the metal wheel on the side.

  “Take it to threshing shows,” Bud said from the other side. “In July we showed it at the thresherman’s show in Madison, Kentucky. That’s where he finally met his new girlfriend.”

  “Face-to-face?” Kate turned to Buck.

  Buck turned a bright red. “She’s into threshing shows too.”

  AS THEY DROVE HOME, Kate rolled through her mental list of evidence while Livvy spoke briefly with her husband on her cell phone. So many clues had led to the Lovelaces’ door, and yet she’d been wrong. Two men, a woman. Their seeming sudden wealth.

  Wait. A thought came to her. Hadn’t Agent Wimper said that the counterfeit bills were all pre-1996? What was significant about that year?

  She turned to Livvy as her friend tucked her phone into her handbag. “Can you do me a favor?”

  Livvy glanced across the seat at her. “Anything,” she said.

  “Can you find out what happened in the printing of money between 1996 and 1997?”

  “Okay. And why is this significant?”

  “Do you remember the town meeting with Agent Wimper?”

  Livvy nodded.

  “He said all the counterfeit bills were pre-1996.”

  Kate saw the lightbulb go on.

  “I’ll look into it right away.”

  “Thanks, Watson.”

  Livvy winked. “Gotcha, Sherlock.”

  KATE STOPPED BY THE LIBRARY shortly after lunch on Monday.

  “Okay, I found out some stuff you’re going to like,” Livvy began as they each took a seat in Livvy’s office. Excitement beamed from Livvy’s eyes.

  She laid some printouts between them. “I got this information from moneyfactory.gov. It talks specifically about the changes that happened in 1996.”

  “Yeah?”

  “It seems that in 1996, the government decided to buckle down on counterfeiting. So they introduced several new features to the currency that are much harder for the layperson to reproduce.” She pointed to a highlighted section of the text and went on. “The new features found in the Series 1996 $20, $50 and $100 notes, and the 1999 Series $5 and $10 notes—including an enlarged off-center portrait, watermark, fine-line printing patterns and color-shifting ink...”

  “That’s why he’s duplicating older bills,” Kate deduced. “They’re still legal tender, and they’re easier to fake.” She sat back. “This person knows a lot about what he’s doing.” Her eyes met Livvy’s.

  Kate reached into her bag and showed Livvy the bill from the bake sale. She was relieved to share the secret with her friend.

  “This was in my handbag after the bake sale.”

  Her heart pounded in her chest as she laid the note in front of Livvy who pulled out a magnifying glass from one of the drawers in her desk behind them. She turned on the light over the table. “What do you see?” Kate said.

  Livvy bent to study the bill, moving the magnifier from place to place. “Do you have a real one?” she said, lifting her gaze.

  Kate pulled a genuine twenty from her handbag and set that alongside the phony.

  After a few more minutes, Livvy pushed the money back to Kate.

  “The real money is much more intricate and detailed”—Livvy paused—“though there were parts of the fake that seemed pretty refined too.”

  “I saw the same thing,” Kate confirmed. “There are sections on the bill, particularly near places that denote its denomination, that are faded.”

  “I didn’t catch that.” Livvy sat back. “What does that mean?”

  Kate reached
for the counterfeit again and found the spot she’d located earlier. She pointed for Livvy to have a look. “Do you see the security thread along the side?”

  Livvy bent again to search for it.

  “One thing our counterfeiter forgot”—Kate spoke while Livvy examined the bill—“is that pre-1996 money still had the security threads. Where it should say ‘$20’ in fine, fine printing, this one says ‘$5.’”

  A grin spread across Livvy’s face. “So what does that mean?”

  “This isn’t fake money,” Kate said. “It’s one hundred percent real. At least it started out that way. The counterfeiter is bleaching sections of lower-value bills and reprinting them in larger denominations. That’s why the serial numbers are authentic; that’s why the bills feel like real money; that’s why the counterfeit checking pens don’t work on them.”

  “That’s genius! But not all the bills have been done this way, right? The pens have caught some of the money...”

  “Exactly. Do you remember that Agent Wimper said the bills were manufactured in different ways? I think this is what he meant. Some are totally fabricated, and some are like these—real bills bleached and reprinted.”

  Livvy was shaking her head.

  “There’s one surefire way to test it,” Kate said.

  Kate took Livvy to the library’s soda machine.

  “Isn’t this illegal?” Livvy said. “You’re trying to pass a counterfeit bill.”

  “I can pay the library back in real money if it spits out a can.”

  Livvy’s shoulders relaxed. She took a deep breath at the same time Kate did. Kate pulled the twenty-dollar bill out of her billfold and flattened it out before lifting it to the machine’s cash slot. The bill slid inside easily before being burped back out. Kate’s eyes met Livvy’s, then she flattened the bill a bit more and tried again. This time it went in, followed by the sound of quarters piling into the change dispenser. Kate bent to pull out three dollars and seventy-five cents in change.

  The machine thought she’d put in a five-dollar bill.

  KATE AND LIVVY went immediately to the deputy’s office, where they found Skip reading the previous week’s Chronicle.