Deceptive Practices

by Simon Wood

  “You’ve got two minutes to explain yourself, then I’m throwing you out,” Heather said.

  It was bluster. Heather might not know what was going on, but she had to know her secret was about to blow up in her face.

  “Heather hired a company called Infidelity Limited,” Olivia began. “They offer a service where they will beat up a cheating spouse or an abusive lover. If someone is stepping out of line in your life, they will knock some sense into them, literally.”

  “Bullshit,” Amy said. “Get out before I call the cops.”

  Heather put her hand on Amy’s forearm. “Don’t.”

  “Is what they’re saying true?”

  “Yes.” The admission came out as a shame-filled whisper.

  “Why?”

  “Why do you think? You’ve given up on yourself since you lost your job. You constantly max out your credit cards by buying junk you don’t need and leave me to clear them. You don’t care about you, and you don’t care about us. My telling you wasn’t working, so I thought it was time for some tough love.”

  Something broke inside Amy, and she sank back into the sofa. “How could you pay someone to hurt me? Jesus, Heather, how could you?”

  “I couldn’t deal with it anymore.”

  “But hurt me?”

  “Words weren’t working.”

  “Not that you tried very hard.”

  “Okay, okay,” Andrew said. “You can fight later. Right now you have to listen to us. This isn’t over.”

  “Why should I listen to you?” Amy chided. “You work for these people.”

  “No,” Olivia said. “I’m a client, just like Heather. Can I show you something?”

  Amy nodded.

  Olivia opened her purse and brought out an edition of the Contra Costa Times with Richard’s murder on the front page. “Infidelity Limited is a scam. They’re not interested in protecting abused women or helping angry spouses get a little revenge. They’re about one thing—murder—and they blackmail their existing clients into doing the dirty work for them.”

  The women picked up the newspaper to read.

  “That’s my husband. I found out he was cheating on me, and I hired Infidelity Limited to rough him up. Instead, they killed him, blackmailed me, and told me that one day I would get a call and I would have to kill someone to pay back my debt. Well, I got that call, and your name came up.” Olivia produced the dossier on Amy from her purse and gave it to her. “If you don’t believe me, tell me how accurate this is and who would have been the only person who could have provided the information.”

  Amy flicked through the pages. She looked at Heather. “This is my whole life in here. How could you?”

  Heather managed only a shake of her head.

  “If you were hoping for some sort of reconciliation, let this be it,” Andrew said.

  “I don’t understand what you’re doing here,” Amy said.

  “Breaking the cycle,” Olivia said. “These people have been successful because the clients have been put in a desperate situation. It stops with us.”

  “I’ll tell them I’ve changed my mind,” Heather said.

  “It’s too late,” Andrew said. “Roy set everything in motion the second you hired him. If Olivia doesn’t kill Amy, he’ll send someone else to do it. If that happens, Amy ends up dead, Olivia goes to jail, and Roy puts the squeeze on you to kill someone for him the same way he has with Olivia. No one wins. But if you work with us, we all stand a chance of getting out of this.”

  “What happens now?” Heather asked.

  “We have to fake Amy’s murder,” Olivia said. “I’m going to tell Roy that I killed you and that I did such a seamless job that no one will ever find the body.”

  “How are you going to say Amy died?” Heather said.

  “It’s best we don’t tell you,” Andrew said. “Everything you learn about Amy’s death has to come across as a complete shock to you; otherwise, Roy will smell a rat. You can’t afford to make any slipups.”

  “That means you have to disappear,” Olivia said to Amy. “You need to go somewhere no one knows you and stay there.”

  “For how long?” Amy asked.

  That was hard to say. Olivia was in unknown territory. Who knew what Roy’s next steps would be? “It could be weeks or possibly months. We’re going to have to play it by ear.”

  “Jesus, you’re asking a lot,” Amy said.

  “It’s nothing compared to the alternative.”

  “Okay, but what about me?” Heather said. “If Roy follows through as per his protocol, he’s going to tell me Amy’s dead and insist that I pay up. Then, a few weeks later, he’s going to assign me to kill someone. I can’t do that.”

  You’d be surprised what you can do, Olivia thought.

  “I don’t think so,” Andrew said. “From what we’ve found out so far, Roy seems to hold off for a period of time before assigning you to kill someone. We think Olivia is being fast-tracked because the person who killed her husband made a mess. There’s a police investigation, and they are zeroing in on her. Your case will be different. As far as anyone is concerned, Amy walked out on you. Roy will likely bide his time before telling you to kill someone.”

  “Do you know that for sure?” Heather said.

  “Not for sure.”

  “This is all so risky.”

  “We’ve dug ourselves a deep, dark hole, and it’s not going to be easy to climb our way out,” Olivia said.

  Amy ran her hands through her hair. “Okay, I disappear, but what happens next? You’re going to bring this Roy down?”

  “Once I fulfill my obligation to Roy and pay his blackmail money, I’m done,” Olivia said. “He won’t be focusing on me anymore. He’ll move on to the next client.”

  “That would be me,” Heather said, waving a hand.

  “With the pressure off me, we can focus on Roy. We’ll track down the evidence he has on my husband’s death, turn the tables on him, and incriminate him. Once he goes down, the hold he has over everyone will be gone.”

  “How exactly are you going to do that?” Amy asked.

  “It’s a work in progress,” Andrew said.

  “In other words, you don’t know.”

  Andrew didn’t answer.

  “As much as you’re grasping at straws, I don’t see how you can do anything different,” Heather said.

  Amy nodded in agreement. “So we’d better kill me, then.”

  For Amy, the solution was simple—disappear. Heather had the heavy lifting to do. While Amy and Olivia made dinner for everyone, Andrew coached Heather on how to deal with Roy—what to say, what not to say, what to expect from him. Just as he had with Olivia and the polygraph, he role-played her encounters with Roy again and again, each time shaking up the questions and scenarios. Heather got frustrated every time Andrew called her out on her mistakes, which were numerous, but by the time dinner was ready, she was rolling with the verbal punches he threw at her.

  While they ate, Amy said, “So when do I die?”

  “Now,” Olivia said. “On Monday, I’ll tell Roy that you’re dead, so you need to be gone. I would leave tonight if I were you.”

  “Remember, you’re dead,” Andrew said. “That means your belongings and car stay, as do your credit cards. You use cash from now on.”

  “We can do that,” Heather said.

  Amy got up and grabbed a bottle of wine and four glasses. “I’d like to propose a toast. To the dearly departed Amy Moore-Marbach. May she rest in peace.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  As planned, Olivia waited until Monday to call Roy to tell him she’d completed her assignment. As a first-time killer, she would need time to process what she’d done before talking to the person who’d forced her to kill. That was her thinking anyway.

  “It’s done,” she said. “Amy Moore-Marbach is dead.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really. What did you expect? You told me to do it, so I did it, okay?”


  “Okay, okay, Olivia. Calm down.”

  “Didn’t think I could do it?”

  “No, I’ve always had faith in you. I just hadn’t expected you to do it so quickly.”

  He thought she had the makings of a capable killer. She didn’t find that a comforting thought. “There was no point in letting it drag on. I saw an opportunity, and I took it.”

  “Well, we need to walk through this. Meet me at China Cove on Angel Island tomorrow at one o’clock.”

  The next day, she took the ferry from Tiburon. The boat rolled with the waves. The lazy, rolling motion did nothing for Olivia’s already-sensitive stomach. She took in long, slow breaths to quell her rising nausea. It wasn’t working. She tried an old trick by focusing on the horizon and not the water. She locked her stare on Angel Island, dead ahead, where Roy was waiting to meet her. Passengers were few in number, which wasn’t surprising for a weekday. She expected Roy’s precheck crew to shake her down, but no one tailed her during the journey or showed up when she arrived at the ferry pier. Was Roy’s trust in her growing, or was it the fact that Angel Island was so isolated that bringing anyone would have been easily noticed?

  In its past, Angel Island had been a military garrison and an immigration station, but now it was a state park. Sitting in the middle of the San Francisco Bay, it was only accessible by boat and barred all vehicles except for bicycles and Segways. It was another isolated spot for one of Roy’s meetings.

  Olivia got an island map from the visitor’s center and found that China Cove was less than a mile from the ferry pier, so she walked it. She didn’t trust her balance on a bike at the moment. She followed the island road that hugged the island’s perimeter.

  Olivia had to put on the performance of her life, and she was a wreck. Her hands were cold, her stomach was churning, and she was sweating. She guessed her condition would help sell her story to Roy. She doubted he’d expect her to be calm and collected after what she’d done.

  “You can do this,” she told herself and wished Andrew were close. She could have done with the support of someone who believed in her.

  She reached China Cove, which had been home to the old immigration station. She ignored the historical site and walked out onto the beach. Roy wasn’t there to meet her. No doubt he was watching her from some vantage point. She kicked off her shoes and stepped into the water, letting the waves lap over her feet. The water was cold, but she enjoyed the sensation.

  Just as she reached the water’s edge, she heard her name being called. She turned to see Roy emerging from one of the barracks. He joined her on the beach.

  C’mon, Olivia, she thought, do the sales job of your life.

  He smiled at her, but his eyes weren’t so jovial. Olivia felt his gaze appraising her as if he were searching for something. For a lie, maybe? She didn’t think so. Roy was all about preserving himself. He was making sure she wasn’t coming apart at the seams. Hopefully a few frayed edges would convince him.

  “Have you been here before?” Roy jerked a thumb at the building behind him. “Amazing history.”

  “I’m not here for the cultural benefits.”

  “I suppose not,” he said. “How are you doing?”

  “How do you think? I feel like shit. I killed someone for you.”

  “And I’m grateful and impressed.”

  “Like that counts for anything.”

  “Olivia, you’re acting like a child, and you’re better than that.”

  “Sorry if I’m disappointing you, but if we’re being honest with each other, I don’t really give a shit what you think about me. All I want is to be free of you, and that’s why I’m here. Are we done?”

  Olivia’s heart was pounding, but she liked her performance. It didn’t sound fake. Mainly because it wasn’t. A good lie was 80 percent truth, and there was no deception when it came to how she felt about the hole she was in.

  “We still have a ways to go before we’re done,” Roy replied. “C’mon, let’s walk and talk.”

  They followed the path back to the road. Olivia wasn’t surprised by Roy’s answer. There’d always be a reason why they weren’t done. Infidelity Limited would always want her chasing after that carrot.

  “Okay,” Roy asked. “How’d you do it?”

  “You really need to know?”

  “Yes, I need to know how clean the kill was. I can do without a mess like Richard’s death.”

  Or is he checking to see whether I’m a liar or not? Her greatest fear was that he’d suspect that she’d tried to deceive him. She surely wasn’t the first to try that tactic. “Amy was staying at her beach house in Morro Bay. I gave myself a flat tire and knocked on the door, saying I needed to call AAA.”

  Roy laughed. “Very slick.”

  “I got Amy into the house, and I pulled a gun. I bound her hands, and I shot her.”

  “Wow, that must have been quite a moment.”

  “It was, and one I hope to never repeat.” She couldn’t keep the contempt out of her voice.

  “Was there a mess?”

  “Not as much as you’d think. I did it in the bathtub. It kept the mess contained. I washed the tub down with enough Clorox to destroy the blood evidence.”

  “Where’d the gun come from?”

  “I have friends, but don’t worry. It’s not registered.”

  Roy smiled. “Do you have it?”

  “No, I disposed of it.”

  “Shame, I would have liked to have kept ahold of it for safekeeping.”

  I bet you would, she thought. She wouldn’t let him hang her twice.

  “What did you do with the body?”

  “I rented a van with a hand truck. The hand truck made it easy to move the body. I found a spot north of Cayucos and dumped the body off the cliffs. According to the tide charts, the body should be drawn out to sea. There’s a chance that it’ll be washed back up, but if it is, it should be a couple of hundred miles up the coast, and by then there’ll be little to recognize.”

  “Anything go wrong? And be honest. You know how I don’t like surprises.”

  “Nothing went wrong. No one saw me. There’s no record or trail of receipts that will link me to this.”

  “The perfect murder.”

  “As perfect as it can be.”

  Roy smiled. A couple of people on bikes whipped by them. “You’ve impressed me, Olivia. I knew you had what it takes. It’s why I put you through an accelerated schedule.”

  “Does this mean we’re done? You don’t have any more surprises for me, right?”

  He laughed. “No, no more surprises, but we’re not done. I still need that hundred grand you owe me. Once you’ve paid me, I’ll be gone from your life.” He saluted. “Scout’s honor.”

  Olivia didn’t believe him. There’d always be a twist. “I’ll get you the money soon. I’m in the process of liquidating some assets without leaving a trail for the cops to find.”

  “Good.” They came to a bench that looked out over the water. Roy pointed to it, and they sat. “How are you doing with the police?”

  “Not well. They believe I’m involved somehow. Instead of looking for the killer, they’re interviewing everyone about me. I don’t think they have any proof, but they don’t have any suspects either, so I’m the next best thing.”

  Olivia didn’t see any point in lying to Roy about Finz’s investigation. She had the feeling that Roy would be keeping close tabs on the proceedings and waiting in the wings to burn her at the first sign that the cops were moving in. She didn’t want to give him any reason to doubt what she said.

  “Is there any chance you’d help throw the cops’ interest off me and onto the person who killed Richard?” she asked.

  “Sadly, no chance. I have to protect all my clients the best I can, even if that means some, like you, have to go through a bad time. Like you say, if the cops only have their suspicions, there’s not a lot they can do.” He looked at his watch. “I have to go. No rest for the wicked and all that.”
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  He smiled at his joke. Olivia didn’t. She couldn’t laugh at anything he said. She remembered Karen Innes, the woman who had tried to shoot Nick, currently rotting in prison for the alleged murder of her husband. Roy didn’t protect anyone. He took his clients for everything they had and left them standing in the wreckage.

  Roy stood. “I’ll take the next ferry. You take the one after me.”

  “I have a question.”

  “Yes?”

  “What made you think I’d follow through on this?”

  Roy smiled with what looked like pride. “I like to think of myself as a good judge of talent, and I knew you had what it takes. You’re a survivor, Olivia, even if that means you have to kill to achieve it.”

  It embarrassed her that Roy saw her as a killer. She was nothing like he imagined. She couldn’t murder someone. What signal was she broadcasting that made Roy think she could? But he was right about her in one respect. She was a survivor, and she would do everything possible to survive Infidelity Limited. Roy would learn that at his expense.

  The ferry slowed as it approached the pier in Sausalito. Roy was still smiling. He’d been smiling for the entire ride back from Angel Island. At last, something had gone right. Olivia had delivered him a clean kill. The last few Infidelity Limited kills had gotten away from him. His clients’ clumsy and amateurish attempts had brought unwanted police interest and forced him to take drastic measures.

  The boat docked, and he climbed off with his fellow passengers. He checked his watch as he stepped off the gangway. He had enough time to squeeze in his due diligence.

  He got into his car and picked up 101, heading south. As he crossed the Golden Gate Bridge, he cast a look back at Angel Island, where Olivia was no doubt still mourning her predicament. She’d proved to be the model client, and it would be a shame when the cops finally came for her. I guess I’ll just have to take solace in the payday I’ll be getting from her, he mused.