by DiAnn Mills
Daniel reached for a slice of Gran’s banana nut bread, doing his best to appear normal. Rain beat steadily on the roof, the sky a mass of angry clouds.
“Why are you spending your vacation days with a couple of old people?” Gran said. “Why not go hunting or catch a plane to Hawaii?”
He wished it were all that simple. “Soon, Gran.” He pulled up a pic of Trey Messner taken from the bakery’s security camera footage and showed it to her. “Not exactly a pretty sight, but do you recognize this man?”
She shook her head.
He scrolled to a second picture of him taken in Miami. This one had been computer treated with gray woven in dark-brown hair to resemble the description of the salesman who’d swindled Silver Hospitality guests.
“I know the jerk. He’s the salesman from Silver Hospitality.”
Bingo.
“Let me take a look.” Gramps was in a good place this morning. He pointed to the man. “Sure, it’s Russell Jergon, the dirty, no-good scoundrel who took our money.”
“Are you taking this to Silver Hospitality to confirm?” Gran said.
“Someone will. I’m on vacation.”
“Right. An arrest would make us all feel better,” she said.
“Not exactly. The man’s dead.”
“I hope it was done by a senior citizen,” Gramps said.
“Earl! Shame on you.”
Gramps waved her away. “Saved taxpayer money to have him housed and executed.”
“Is this from the man who opposes the death penalty?” Gran said.
“Abby girl, some no-goods can’t be rehabilitated.”
Daniel had heard this discussion before, and he’d better stop it now. “The man chased Laurel, fired at her, and she shot him. Drove the same truck that fired at us. Both times stolen license plates were used.”
Gramps held up a finger. “You ought to hold on to her. Never know when you might need an extra gun.”
“You have a point.” Daniel had no desire to discuss Laurel when everything was on hold until the scammers were arrested.
“I received a card in the mail yesterday,” Gran said.
“You didn’t tell me.” Gramps swallowed half a piece of banana bread.
“What’s the occasion?”
Gran disappeared and returned a few moments later. She placed the card before him, her fingers shaking. “Maybe your friends at the FBI can analyze this.”
Daniel opened the thinking-of-you card and read the message. He masked the fear swirling through him with a calm demeanor. “Those guys don’t give up.”
“Apparently not,” she said.
Gramps took the card. “Sniveling coward! Just let him come near my Abby.”
Daniel touched his arm. “Good men are guarding the house. You’re safe. We both know Gran is a better shot than we are.” He focused on her. “Can I take this to the FBI?”
“Sure. I wanted to burn it but thought better of it.” She lifted her stubborn chin. “Don’t think I won’t unload on whoever’s doing this.”
“Promise me you won’t go anywhere. Not even with a bodyguard.”
“Staying here is boring,” Gran said. “I can’t experience the world.”
“Please. You asked my help in this.”
“All right. You have my word.”
11:00 A.M. TUESDAY
Daniel dropped off the greeting card to SSA Preston before driving to meet with Laurel at a park near her apartment. Being dressed as C. W. Krestle allowed him time alone with her. He had questions from his online searching, ones he preferred to have answered without Wilmington present.
The scammers were becoming more aggressive. SSA Preston reported two more cases in which the elderly claimed to have purchased life insurance policies and their bank accounts were minus several thousand dollars. Fortunately no more deaths. And with that information, Daniel renewed his commitment to find who was behind what the FBI referred to as the Leopard case. Wilmington? Cayden? Fields? Or all three?
Wilmington played into the unanswered questions. But how? Trusting him seemed like offering shelter to a psychopath.
Although the woman with Trey Messner at the bakery attempted to hide from the security camera, she’d been identified as Fields. Looked like she was more influenced by her half brother than the man holding on to the money. Or maybe that was the problem.
Daniel requested a complete psychological profile of Fields’s and Cayden’s personalities. Previous behavior would help predict how they interacted in the present. Laurel had access to all the information at her fingertips, but he’d rather request it from SSA Preston.
At the park, he found a bench where he could watch those who entered the wooded area. Using the burner, he texted Laurel where to find him and that he had Sonic burgers and fries for lunch. Drawn into the world of treachery through a massive puzzle, he pushed aside everything else in his life to concentrate. With every moment that passed, another victim was exposed to a killer.
Five minutes later, Laurel walked his way in jeans, boots, and a blue sweater that made her golden hair sparkle. She waved and he stood. A hug would have been nice, but he’d spotted a man near a clump of trees reading. Highly unlikely. Instead he handed her the bag of food and pointed to her drink beneath the bench.
She sat and reached for a fry. “What’s up, Krestle?”
“Lots of questions and no one to answer them but you.”
“Are you going to drive me nuts? Be irritating?” She smiled. Perfectly white teeth.
“Marsha Leonard said the same thing numerous times. She prefers Gramps.”
“She might be right.” She glanced around.
“To the right. Reading.”
“Thanks,” she whispered. “What’s first?”
“Almet Pharmaceuticals. Among other drugs, they manufacture medications for those with dementia and Alzheimer’s. Gramps has tried them all.”
“Which are?”
“I’ll text them, but the list is Aricept, Namenda, Exelon, Razadyne, and Cognex. I’m sure you’ve been briefed with this, but I need to voice my thoughts.”
She popped a fry into her mouth. “Yes, I’ll humor you.”
“We know Cayden works for Almet, and we’ve heard about his medical leave of absence. But why hasn’t the FBI here brought him in for questioning?”
“Daniel, there’s no evidence. The Miami office is interviewing everyone there. He was one of the first ones they talked to before he left Miami.”
“You’re right. It would be Cayden’s word against Wilmington’s, and the testimony of a convicted criminal isn’t worth much in court. When will the FBI have the results from the others?”
“Soon. I could check again with SSA Preston.”
He shook his head. “I’ll ask him. If I’m a player, I don’t want to use you as a source for all my information. I need to look smart.”
“You’re challenging an FBI agent?” Her tone was teasing, and he’d already learned she covered emotion by skirting around what she really meant.
“Yes, ma’am. Whoever figures this out owes the other a steak dinner and two dozen Snickers bars.”
“A bet? You’re on. But I prefer sea bass. Hope you’re not a bad loser.”
He was, but she didn’t need to gloat over it. He winced, his emotions kicking into gear. Push aside your feelings for her until later. “Ready for topic number two?”
“There’s more than two?”
She was flirting, and he enjoyed every second. “What’s Morton Wilmington’s background?”
“Other than the man’s a genius?” She took a bite of her burger, and he did the same. “He was in and out of trouble as a teen, then supposedly got on the right track in college. Received his master’s in business management. Sometime after that he went to work for a well-off family in Chicago. Taught him how to launder money—basically lie, cheat, and steal. Sort of a Godfather scenario. Wilmington slipped away before facing arrest and joined the Army.”
“What a
bout his growing-up years?”
“His parents were hardworking, blue-collar people. According to him, they were good and moral. He simply wanted what others had and didn’t care how he got it. In fact, he didn’t believe he had a conscience. Go figure with his new supposed stand on God.”
Daniel mentally stored the man’s background. No conscience meant anything goes. If he was behind the scam, Daniel would tear him apart. There wouldn’t be anything left for law enforcement to cuff.
“A penny for your thoughts?”
Her voice broke into his vendetta. “I just want justice.”
“And I want revenge. We’re a strange pair.”
“For the agent killed in Wilmington’s takedown?”
“The agent was my partner, a good man with a family.”
Daniel wanted to take her hand, enclose her fingers in his. Cayden’s man would report it for sure. “How many people have told you his death wasn’t your fault?”
“Too many.”
“God works in ways we’ll never understand.”
She glanced away. “I’m not on His dance card.”
“Yes, you are. All He wants is an opportunity to lead.”
“That’s why God and I don’t dance. I have to be in control to survive.”
“I figured out your method of doing life during our first meeting. You’re a strong woman, Laurel, but I see the pain in your eyes.”
“Don’t even try to get near me. Might get you killed.”
“I’ve never done well taking orders from the FBI.”
“Daniel,” she whispered, pushing back. “I don’t need more blood on my hands.”
“I’ll take my chances. We can’t do a thing about our relationship until this is over, and don’t try to deny it.”
“I’m not looking for or wanting a relationship. I’m not exactly dating material. Baggage, remember?”
“I have a railcar full myself.”
“We’re both stubborn, independent. Probably kill each other,” she said.
Hadn’t he said the same to Gramps? “We could try to leave our firearms in our holsters.”
She laughed, a real one. “To see who could inflict the most damage? You have this Christian thing going. Doesn’t your Bible warn you about being unequally yoked?”
She was right. “You must have read a lot of the Bible.”
“Daniel, I like you. I really do. Your Christian beliefs are principles I’m familiar with but have never been able to accept. We can be friends, and that’s exactly what I need. All I need or want.”
“I know better, but I’ll not press you.” He could have corrected her principled beliefs regarding a relationship with the God of the universe. Except he didn’t feel his convictions were what she should hear right now. Kindness, yes. Miscommunication as in condemnation, no. He’d show her what his faith meant to him.
“Thanks.” Her wistful tone told him the truth. If he wanted this to work, then he had a job to do before approaching her again about his faith or a relationship.
She glanced away. “You have plans for us?” Not a trace of emotion touched her face. He was sure she carried some heavy baggage. Beginning with her deceased parents, a foster home, and a killed partner. But that would be another time.
“It takes two.”
She peered at two children on swings. “Is the man still reading?”
“Yes. Should I kiss you and give him something to report to Cayden and Wilmington?”
“It would make Fields ecstatic. But we could wind up dead.” She stood. “Talk to you later. You have a date with Wilmington and Cayden?”
“Right. Then moving into Wilmington’s condo.”
She laughed. “Better you than me. I’ve been there. Views are great but the company’s deplorable.”
He figured before the afternoon was over, she’d contact SSA Preston herself for the Miami information. Loved how she operated.
Oops. The L word had slipped into his thoughts without warning. Crazy.
CHAPTER 36
12:50 P.M. TUESDAY
Daniel met with Wilmington outside a popular Cajun restaurant near the Galleria. They had some things to discuss before Cayden joined them, especially if Cayden refused Wilmington and Laurel as part of his operation.
Wilmington laughed at Daniel’s appearance as Krestle the bodyguard. “You clean up pretty good. I’m the only one of us having lunch who looks like my real self.”
“I’m up for an Academy Award.” Daniel enjoyed this part of law enforcement.
“Did you know a nonprofit organization dedicated to finding a cure for Alzheimer’s and dementia has booked a fund-raiser dinner on October 15 at the Junior League?” He glanced around. “Been on the calendar for eight months. SSA Preston texted me on the way here. Laurel was copied.”
“I’m low guy here. Last to find out.”
“We’ll see if Cayden brings the date up.”
“You mean if we’ve passed his scrutiny.”
“Here he comes now.”
A broad-shouldered man walked into the restaurant and stuck out his hand to Wilmington. “Glad you could make it, Mort.”
Wilmington shook his hand. “I’ve been looking forward to our conversation.” He pointed to Daniel. “This is my bodyguard, C. W. Krestle.”
“I wasn’t expecting anyone but the two of us.” Cayden smiled, but his eyes emitted displeasure in a cold stare. “A table for three.” His face tightened.
Once seated, they gave the server their food and beverage orders.
Wilmington leaned onto the table. “What’s the stand? Laurel and I have plans on hold while waiting for your decision.”
“Josie is opposed, but I expected that. She sent her errand-boy brother out on a job and lost.”
“Why?”
Cayden shrugged. “A female thing about Laurel being seen with some guy she wanted to date.”
“Hardly. My Laurel’s loyal.”
Daniel cringed internally.
“Do you run the operation or does Josie?” Wilmington’s words raised a challenge.
“I do. And I say you and Laurel are in. But if I suspect anything from her, then I’ll personally take her out of the game.”
“You indicated a female partner, and I assumed she was it.”
“Got to cover my bases, Morton,” Cayden said.
“So no partner?”
“A silent one. For now.”
Wilmington snorted. “Glad it isn’t Josie. She was wacko years ago, and from her record, she’s wanted all over.”
“Yes, but her IQ makes up for it. As long as she behaves herself, she stays alive.”
The server set their beverages on the table and disappeared.
“What happens from here?” Wilmington said.
“What we discussed in prison. Did I mention my nonprofit? It was formed to aid those suffering with Alzheimer’s and dementia. In fact I’m hosting a fund-raiser on October 15 right here in Houston.”
Daniel bit back his thoughts about Cayden’s nonprofit and fund-raiser. The man just thought he had the good-guy facade.
“Who’s invited?”
“A select group of four hundred men and women from the Southeast and Gulf States who share our ideals. Wealthy, highly respected.”
They were talking in circles. Then it hit him. Cayden feared one of them might be recording the conversation. Nothing he’d said could be used against him. Wilmington played into it too. Daniel had now hit the big dogs, and he wasn’t sure he could outsmart them.
“Your input, support, and encouragement with the nonprofit is what we need.”
“Laurel and I are in.”
“Excellent. We appreciate your participation. All that we went over a few months ago is still intact. Our website has a tab for online donations.”
“When do Laurel and I meet with you again?”
“Friday night. I’ll let you know where.” He sneered at Daniel. “Without your bodyguard. If you can’t trust me after what we went thr
ough in the military, who can you trust?”
Wilmington leaned back. “No one. I owe you, and this is how I can repay what you did for me.”
How much of this was real for Wilmington? Daniel chose not to go there—his facade might crack.
Cayden pulled an inhaler from inside his jacket and drew in the medicine. Didn’t look like it was for show.
The server approached their table and asked for Geoff Cayden. “Sir, there’s a woman who wants a word with you.”
“Who is it?”
“Says it’s a personal matter about your daughter.”
Cayden swore. “My wife would have called.” He turned to Wilmington. “Excuse me while I see what this is about. Be right back.”
Daniel watched them walk away and used his cloth napkin to retrieve the inhaler and drop it into his jacket pocket. He swiped a napkin from another table and stuck it by Cayden’s plate.
“You might be in the wrong business,” Wilmington whispered.
“Don’t think so.”
In less than three minutes, Cayden returned. He took his seat swearing, face red.
“Is your daughter all right?” Wilmington said.
“Wasn’t my wife at all, but a woman I met last night. Said she followed me today from my hotel. I blew up and she ducked into a car. She won’t live past the day.”
Coco had come through for him. The FBI had arranged transportation for her to the airport and she was off to a Hawaiian vacation, courtesy of a dip into Daniel’s savings account. Worth every dollar to have Cayden’s DNA.
2:35 P.M. TUESDAY
Laurel had never been one to wait for information, and finding out the results of FBI interviews in Miami meant contacting SSA Preston. She’d win the dinner with Daniel—sharing a meal with him sounded better than all those with Wilmington. Once home, she checked e-mail and saw a Google alert about her and Wilmington.
Her stomach rolled, and she almost wished she hadn’t set up a way to keep tabs on him.
Laurel and I are planning a February 14 wedding. I’d like sooner, but Valentine’s Day makes it special.
Beneath the post was a photo of the two of them at Damian’s for dinner. She couldn’t remember smiling at him. Must have been Photoshopped. For a moment she despised herself as much as she had five years ago.
