by Matt Lincoln
I leaned back and looked up through the cypress’s bristly limbs. Farr was correct on all counts. Political spin went in all directions. The man who almost killed Holm half a year earlier had been made out to be a hero because that’s what looked good for the government. In reality, he’d been a murdering psychopath who served the military’s purposes and been allowed to retire into the public sector with no recriminations. I’d be a fool not to expect the reverse if I pissed off the wrong people.
Unfortunately for those people, I was the wrong guy for them to mess with.
CHAPTER 28
Lance Bellows was known for his opportunistic nature in many areas, but none more so than real estate. He lived up to his last name by bellowing out his successes on social media and in the newspaper, such as beginning new housing communities in some locations or selling to mega-developers in others, like Miami Beach.
Bellows worked out of a posh office suite on the floor below his penthouse in a downtown highrise. Holm and I stepped off of the elevator into a gilt lobby with studded leather seating and a marble-topped mahogany reception counter. A pair of women who looked as if they’d stepped off a catwalk crewed the phones, which rang constantly.
The woman on the right, a blonde whose hair was swept back into a severe bun with glasses that rode low on her nose, had a disdainful scowl until she looked up and saw Holm. Yeah, his pretty-boy face never hurt. The scars remained hidden beneath his sometimes-foppish wardrobe.
“How may I help you gentlemen?” the receptionist asked in a sweet tone.
“We have an appointment with Lance Bellows.” I showed her my badge and identification. “Special Agents Marston and Holm from MBLIS.”
Her brows rose, her lips pursed in a duckish manner, and she turned to her computer. She used her long fingernails to tap at the keyboard a few times before she smiled.
“You’re next.” She folded her arms and leaned on the desktop with her elbows and forearms. “Are you, like, secret agents?” She directed the question at Holm, and he brightened.
“We’re special agents,” he clarified. “We have more training and experience than other field agents, so we get more control over how we run our cases.”
“Bella, we have callers waiting on lines two and five.” The other receptionist regarded her peer with a frown. “I’m sure these agents would like to have their seats until Mr. Bellows can see them.”
Bella nodded and slouched as she picked up a phone line.
“I’m fine waiting here,” Holm told me. “What about you, partner?”
“Perfectly content.”
His saccharine smile did nothing to help the coworker’s mood, which was his intention. Neither of us liked seeing people pushed around where they worked. The small rebuke alone wasn’t enough to base an impression upon, but the way Bella shrunk spoke volumes as to her treatment outside of the lobby setting.
A double door down the hall from the lobby swung open, and a suited man with a fedora in both hands emerged. He played with the brim and watched the marble floor as he walked past us and toward the elevator. As he stepped onto the elevator, a trim man with bleached-blond hair, dark tan, and designer suit strolled out of the room with his thumbs hooked into belt loops.
“Kaylee, revoke Carl’s credentials.” He spoke in a hearty tone to the woman at the desk with Bella. “Have security dump his things in a box and send it to him in the downstairs lobby.”
“On it, Mr. Bellows,” Kaylee answered in clipped syllables as Holm and I shot each other sharp looks. She pointed at the two of us. “Your next appointment is here.”
Bellows clapped his hands once and then spread them wide. The man was a poster boy for the “megawatt smile.”
“Welcome!” He gestured toward his office with both hands. “Special Agents Marston and Holm, I am happy to help in any way I can.”
I looked back toward the elevator. “Tough day, huh?”
Bellows glanced in that direction and chuckled. “Hardly. He had the balls to call himself a salesman and then only cleared a mil and a half in the past year. I don’t have time for that nonsense.”
“Good thing I’m not in sales,” I muttered.
“We all have our strengths,” Bellows answered. “That guy will do better selling houses to middle-class homemakers than on the big stage.”
“Fair enough.” I glanced over to see Holm roll his eyes at me. Sales was definitely not in my future.
He clapped once more as he led us into his postmodern office. The bold color splashes and geometric furnishings were quite the contrast with the waiting area. It felt like we’d entered a completely different structure. Bellows must have picked up on my reaction.
“I used to require all my offices to match the style you saw when you stepped onto the floor,” he told us. “I read something about the importance of expressing individuality, and it hit home. Clients have different tastes, and so do we, the people who work for them. When they walk into my office now, they see my personality.” He walked behind a wide, white desk and stood before the floor-to-ceiling window with an ocean view. “They also see that my successes are what elevated me to this office.”
Something had elevated him. A shaft of sunlight played over a row of faint dust lines on the desk’s glass surface. Only a guy dripping in wealth would be careless enough not to finish every bit of his cocaine. As much as I would’ve liked to bust a rich guy for snorting blow, I didn’t have enough probable cause without getting a good photo. Besides, I had higher priorities.
“Let’s get to the point of our visit,” I told him. “You sold Shawn Zhu the property where he built the Dragon Tide.”
Bellows affected a sympathetic expression and melted into his white leather chair, which looked more like a throne on castors.
“Such a shame,” he sighed. “I had high hopes for that project. It’s the wave of the future.”
Holm smirked. Bellows’s puns were on Holm’s level, only I didn’t think Bellows was aware he’d made them. I wasn’t sure if that made them better or worse than my partner’s.
“We found some interesting paperwork about that sale.” I pulled two folded, worked-over photocopies from my back pocket. It was a little trick I used to give the high and mighty the impression that I was a simple rube who couldn’t possibly meet their level of sophistication. “It looks like there were two soil and bedrock inspections made on the property.”
Bellows’s smile faltered. “Oh?”
I laid the first page on my side of his desk and smoothed it out. “Yeah. The copy filed for the sale said the ground was safe for the hotel’s construction. Drill samples had sand down a ways and then Miami limestone. The limestone looked like it does in the rest of the area, porous but solid.”
Bellows nodded. “I remember, yes.”
I sucked at my lips to make a light popping sound. It used to annoy Gramps when I was a kid, and it came in handy during certain interviews. Like this one.
“Here’s the thing…” I handed him the other copy. “Three months ago, Shawn Zhu’s company pulled another drill sample. It doesn’t match the one provided at the time of sale.”
“That can’t be right,” Bellows murmured. He laid the summary pages side by side and stared. “My people wouldn’t have messed this up.”
Holm crossed his legs and cupped his knee in his hands. “That’s the thing, though. Someone did. Until we get the results back from the new sample, we can’t know for sure, but right now? It looks like the new sample shows the limestone is far softer than it should be for that hotel.”
Bellows looked up and met my eyes for the first time. His dilated pupils all but confirmed my notion that he was using.
“I expect nothing but the best from my people,” he said in a tone that sounded steadier than he looked. “If they screwed this up, there’ll be hell to pay.”
“Your people?” I asked. “I’d expect Zhu to use an independent contractor to conduct the drilling and tests. Why didn’t it work out this way?”<
br />
“We worked out a deal. He paid for the Phase I testing to show the soil didn’t have hazardous waste. I paid for the core samples to show the bedrock was solid.” Bellows lifted his hands a few inches. “To be fair, he told me he was planning a thirteen-story hotel. I didn’t know he doubled that until way after the sale.”
I frowned. This was news to me. “If the new samples match the second report, would that make a difference in what size building it could support?”
“Oh yeah, and with the modifications that he made from the first proof of concept?” Bellows blinked and shook his head. “Miami limestone is softish anyway, but if it was too soft, it would require a completely different approach to the foundation. They used helical piles, right?”
“Yes.”
“So, that’s a good start, but they’d have to go far deeper and place them just right the distances. Too close, and they disturb each other, but too far, and there’s not enough support for the building.” He held his hands close and then far. “It’s a balancing act that combines those placements, depth, type of piles, and the materials used for the piles. Dealing with that soft of a bedrock would be more expensive, especially for a larger high-rise.”
Bellows deflated into his chair.
“Something on your mind, Mr. Bellows?” Holm let go of his knee and leaned back. “We’re all ears.”
“No, no.” The young mogul shook his head. “I’m just floored. If you’re right about the bedrock, it’s no wonder that hotel collapsed. Thank you for bringing this to me.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you didn’t know anything about this before the sale?”
Bellows straightened in his chair. There were no traces of his earlier smile. “Of course not. I hope you aren’t implying that I had something to do with it.”
“An implication like that could destroy everything you’ve built,” Holm said in a droll tone. “Figuratively speaking, that is.”
“Lucky for me, I did nothing wrong.” Bellows stood. “Is that all you needed?”
“Just a couple more questions.” I made no move to leave my seat. Granted, the chair was one of the most comfortable ones that my ass had the pleasure of meeting, but I stayed put to show Bellows that he wasn’t as in charge as he seemed to think. “Who approached who for the sale of this property?”
Bellows shifted his weight. “Word got out that Mr. Zhu wanted a quick turnaround so he could begin his new project with as little fuss as possible.” He went over to his window and pointed north. “Miami’s new Chinatown is in the works as we speak. He told me he wanted to build his hotel to coincide with that. It was before he announced he’d be using the Adapta-Shield tech for the first time on this site.”
I frowned. “Dragon Tide isn’t even close to North Miami.”
“I asked about that.” Bellows twitched his nose. “He said that the removed location made it easier to be on the water. A large building like that won’t work with the plans the city has developed, but if it weren’t for that special underwater thing, he could’ve along the shore up there.” He sniffed. “Mr. Zhu also told me that some of his clients wanted to be close to Chinatown for business purposes but not right in the middle of it. It sounded like a win-win-win.”
I got out of my chair, scooped the pages up from the desk, and then used them to fan the glass topper.
“It’s a little dusty in here,” I observed. “You might want to look into that.”
“Yeah, you can leave now,” Bellows demanded. “If you want to talk again, call my attorney.”
On the way down in the elevator, I refolded the pages and stuffed them back into my pocket. I wiped my hands on my slacks.
“Afraid you got a little blow on your skin?” Holm asked with a chuckle. He crossed his arms and leaned against the back wall.
“There wasn’t enough there to worry about.” I shrugged. “It’s the idea that bugs me more than anything.”
“How strung out do you think he was for that inspection report?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so. My guess is that he got some numbers fudged based on what he knew the land could handle. Building codes usually go beyond what’s necessary for something to work, so a guy figures out lower standards that will hold up, and he can get away with moving properties that would’ve been hard sells otherwise.”
The elevator dinged at the main level, and we exited.
“That’s one way to charge prime rates for bigger buildings,” Holm agreed.
I slowed before the glass exit doors. The man from earlier, the erstwhile sales guy, waited on the sidewalk out front. A cardboard file box rested on the concrete next to his feet. I tapped Holm’s arm and pointed.
“Let’s go have a word,” I suggested.
We walked up to him as a compact car pulled to the curb. He apparently recognized us from the waiting area earlier. The guy stared at his feet until the car stopped.
“Hey, heard about your job,” I ventured as we approached. “I heard you pulled more than a million in sales over the past year.”
He pressed his lips into a thin line for a second. “Unless you’re here to hire me to work in the middle of nowhere, go away.”
“Woah, just trying to be friendly.” I spread my hands. “We overheard and couldn’t believe that you got fired for not nabbing enough sales. It seemed to me that seven figures is a hell of a lot.”
“For most agencies, it is.” He stuffed his box into the car’s back seat. “Not for Bellows. Nope. You gotta be willing to make compromises that I didn’t want to make. So screw him.”
“What kind of compromises?” Holm went over and held the door for sales guy as he struggled to get that damn box over. “That sounds ominous.”
“Who did you say you were?” the man asked. “Wait, no, never mind. Forget I said anything and go away.” He gave Holm a little shove. “I’m done with this place. Good riddance!”
He slammed the door, and the driver pulled away from the curb. I would have given a lot to know what that man had seen, but it was too late.
“How much do you wanna bet Bellows’s people compromise by faking inspection reports?” I turned to Holm. “Because I’m telling you right now, a closer look at this company will reveal a lot of dirt.”
“I sure wouldn’t bet against it.” Holm looked down at his phone, and his eyebrows rose. “Hey, I just got a text from Dollar Store.”
“Yeah?”
We hadn’t heard from our scrawny, perpetually stoned informant in the months since the hurricane that had slammed Grand Bahama. I’d worried that he might have pulled a stupid and tried to ride it out instead of getting his ass home to Miami.
“He says he might know something about the explosives at Dragon Tide.” Holm met my eye. “That’s a hell of a way to say ‘I’m back.’”
“Damn straight, it is.” I couldn’t help a grin. “I’ll take it, though. Let’s meet him tonight.”
Holm shook his head. “On it. His recent whereabouts were, as he puts it, ‘classified.’ Okay, then.”
“At least our favorite little stoner is alive.” We reached my car and got in. “Dollar Store has some explaining to do, Robbie. I want to know where he’s been, and more importantly, I wanna know about those explosives.”
CHAPTER 29
“I’m not afraid when everyone is home,” Alice told us when Holm and I met her in Diane’s office. “Not that much, anyway. My parents only left the house once since they took it over, and that was to make plans for Yéyé’s body.”
“You shouldn’t have to be afraid around family.” Holm’s soft voice elicited a small smile from Alice.
“It’s a nice sentiment but not reality.” Alice looked at Diane, and Diane nodded. “I know you’re looking at my mom. Honestly, it doesn’t surprise me. She’s ruthless, and she’s a lot of the reason I had to get away.”
“I still can’t believe you’re so calm about all of this,” I admitted.
“I’ve known the truth since I was a kid.” A
lice closed her eyes for a moment, and I wondered if it was to hide the flash of pain that passed across her face. “I don’t know if she had anything to do with Yéyé’s death. With… with his murder. I wish I knew if she really would have me killed. The one thing I do know is that she would not have it happen while she’s under my roof. That’s something I learned. She does not allow murder at home, and right now, my house is home.”
That was a low standard for feeling safe. I almost hoped her mother was guilty so that she’d pay for at least a few of her crimes.
Diane cleared her throat. “Alice and I had a frank discussion while you boys were gone.” She met my eye and did not let go. “It goes against my better judgment, but I am going to have you take Alice out today. Before you get all googly eyed, here’s the catch. Robbie is going with you.”
“Am I backup or a babysitter?” Holm asked with a groan.
“Both.” Diane pointed to Alice and then me. “If you two decide to have a fling, wait until after we know it won’t have an impact on a trial. I’m not one to throw cold water on matters of the heart, but this isn’t your usual situation.”
I nodded. “Understood.” I glanced over at Alice, and her cheeks darkened. “I’m a professional.” I wanted to wink and see if she’d blush harder, but I kept the impulse in check. God, I wanted to kiss her, but I was strong enough to keep that to myself.
“Look over those plans before you go have fun,” Diane ordered. She took a long look at Alice. “See if you agree with Watts and with the initial reports on the foundation. And Alice, I don’t want you to stay at your house tonight. Get back here by six. The closer we get, the more dangerous it could get. I don’t trust anyone but our people with your safety.”
“I need to get some overnight things…” Alice trailed off, looked away, and then nodded. “No, you’re right. We can stop at a store.”
