Fatal Fraud: A Fatal Series Novel

by Marie Force

  “I don’t know about that, but the truth of the matter is I don’t want it.”

  “Because of me, right? Because of what happened with Christopher and Tara.” His son had resorted to murder to try to discredit Nick—and Sam by extension—to feed his own political ambitions. “I ruined it for you, didn’t I?”

  “Those were difficult situations, to be sure, but the truth of it is in the statement. It’s because of Sam and the kids. My older son will be in high school and college over the next eight years. Surrounding him with Secret Service during those years is a big ask, and it’s not what I want for him. The twins have just lost their parents, and we’re doing our best to give them a stable, loving home. How do I do that when I’m gone more than I’m home?”

  “For what it’s worth, I think you’re doing the right thing. Your kids will grow up fast, and you won’t want to have regrets.”

  “I already missed the first eleven years of Scotty’s life. I don’t want to miss anything else.”

  Nelson handed the statement back to Nick. “I appreciate the heads-up.”

  “Of course, Mr. President.”

  “What’ll you do with yourself professionally after we leave office?”

  “I’m not sure yet, but I’ve got three years to figure it out.”

  “You’ll be overrun with more offers than you can handle.”

  “I guess we’ll see what happens.” Nick stood to leave. “I appreciate your time.”

  Nelson stood to shake his hand. “I appreciate yours. Let’s put a lunch on the books to go over plans for the next few months. I’ve got a few things coming up I’d like you to be involved in.”

  He would believe that when he saw it since Nelson rarely included him in anything major, even after promising he would. “Sounds good. Have a good day, Mr. President.”

  “You do the same.”

  Nick returned to his suite, knocked on Trevor’s door and handed the statement to him. “Green light to release it. Just wait until about three o’clock, if you would. I have something I need to do at one, and I don’t want this to be a distraction.”

  “I’ll take care of it, Mr. Vice President, and for what it’s worth, I understand why you’re doing this, but I’m sorry we won’t work together anymore after we finish this term.”

  “I’m sure we’ll still work together in some form or another, Trevor.”

  “I hope so, sir.”

  Terry came to the door. “You’ve broken my father’s heart.”

  “I know. I feel bad about that.”

  “He’ll get over it. He understands. We all do. We see how happy Sam and your family make you. I wouldn’t want to be away from Lindsey either. It’s all good.”

  “I’m sure we’ll find something else to do when we leave office that’ll allow us to keep working together,” Nick said.

  “That’d be nice. Brant asked me to tell you he’s worked it out to leave for your one o’clock at twelve forty-five.”

  “Excellent,” Nick said, relishing the plan for a showdown with the rude reporter and relieved to have shared his decision with the people closest to him.

  Ginny’s cousin Alison Enders worked at an upscale interior design company off 118 in Germantown. She had dark hair cut into a bob, sharp hazel eyes and wore a navy power suit with sky-high heels. Sam loved a good shoe but drew the line at anything higher than three inches out of self-preservation.

  Sam followed Alison to the offices at the back of the showroom.

  “I didn’t kill her,” Alison said the second the door closed behind Freddie. “But I’m not surprised someone did. A lot of people were devasted by her scheme.”

  Every word reverberated with barely contained rage. “We grew up together, had sleepovers, double dates and vacations. We raised our children together, called ourselves ‘best cousins.’” She sniffed out a huff of disdain. “And then she ruined everything by stealing from me.” Gesturing for Sam and Freddie to sit in her visitor chairs, Alison sat behind a desk stacked with file folders, fabric samples and paint chips.

  “Can you tell me how she sold you on the investment opportunity?”

  “My husband, Tom, and I were on vacation with her and Ken. It was a trip we took every year to the Caribbean to get away from the winter blahs, as we called them. She was on the phone a lot, and when I asked her why, she told me she was working on the most exciting project of her career. It was a restored mill in a hot part of Gaithersburg that she was going to renovate and turn into condos and retail. When she talked about it, her eyes glittered with contagious excitement. In hindsight, I realize that was all part of the scam. Spread the excitement, get others excited and then separate them from their money.”

  “How much did you give her?”

  “Three hundred thousand,” she said on a deep sigh.

  Sam nearly swallowed her tongue. Who had that kind of money just sitting around? “When did you realize it was a scam?”

  “I was slow on the uptake because it never occurred to me that my own cousin would steal from me. Tom started getting worried about it a few months after we gave her the money, when there was no information about the development or what was happening. He started texting her every day for updates, and for a while, she responded with just enough info to keep him pacified. But after a few weeks of daily requests for info, she stopped responding to him—and to me when I’d text her.”

  “And that was unusual?”

  “Very. Ginny wasn’t only my cousin, she was one of my closest friends all my life. We talked almost every day, even when we were in college in different states. Long after everything that’s come to light, it’s still inconceivable.”

  “When was the last time you saw her or talked to her?”

  “I was at her arraignment.”

  “Did you speak to her that day?”

  “I did not. I hadn’t spoken to her since the day before she was charged, when I called her.”

  “And what did you talk about that day?”

  “I told her there was still time to make this right, to give back the money. She said it was all a big misunderstanding and not to worry, that the money was safe.”

  “Was it?”

  “I have no idea. We think there might be some stashed in offshore accounts, though we’ve been unsuccessful thus far in finding any such accounts. And that’s assuming she didn’t spend it all. As Tom said, do you know what kind of effort it’d take to spend twenty million dollars?”

  “Did you receive an accounting of what it was used for?”

  “Vacations, cars, clothes, jewels, college tuition for their daughter, luxury cars for the kids, an Alaskan cruise for Ginny’s parents, the list goes on and on. But it wasn’t close to the full amount.”

  “Do you have any theories on who might’ve killed her?”

  “Do you want the whole list or just the top five hundred most likely culprits?”

  Sam appreciated sarcasm as much as the next person. “Our list of people with motive is incredibly long. We’re trying to narrow it down. If there’s anything that stands out in your mind as concerning, that would help.”

  “I understand and appreciate that your job is figuring out who killed her. You’ll also understand that I don’t give a flying fuck who did it. In fact, when I find out who it is, I’d like to buy them a beer to thank them.”

  “Were any other members of your family scammed by her?”

  “One of Ginny’s brothers, one of my brothers and another cousin were also scammed. The four of us are filing a civil suit against her estate, which is another way we hope to recoup some of what we’ve lost. But that’s going to take years. So rather than anticipating retirement, we’re looking at many more years of work unless we get lucky with the lawsuit. That’s what she’s condemned us to. And personally, I hope she’s roasting in hell today. It’d be the least of what she deserves.”

  “Do you believe Ken or her children knew anything about what she was doing?”

  “I’ve gone ro
und and round about that, asking myself how could they not know. But she was good at hiding the truth, so I honestly don’t know.”

  “Can you tell me where I could find her children?”

  “Her daughter, Mandi, is a senior at Catholic University, and her son. Ken Jr., works in the defense community. I’m not sure where, but Ken Sr. would know.”

  “That helps. Thank you.” As always, Sam handed over her card. “If you think of anything else we should know, please give me a call.”

  Alison took the card.

  “Have you heard anything about funeral arrangements?” Sam asked.

  She shook her head. “I’m not going, so it doesn’t matter to me.”

  “Thank you for your time. We’ll see ourselves out.”

  When they were outside, Sam blew out a frustrated breath. “I hate this woman, and I hate this case.”

  “Right there with you. It’s really hard to be empathetic toward someone who’d rip off the people closest to her. I almost want her killer to get away with it.”

  “So do I, but we can’t say that to anyone else. Ever.”

  “Understood. What’s our next move?”

  “After I meet Nick for the nooner, let’s find Ginny’s daughter at Catholic and find out what she knew and when she knew it. See if you can figure out where she is on campus.”

  As they got into the car, he said, “I’ll do that if we can stop calling the meeting with Nick a nooner.”

  “You’ll do it because I told you to, and anytime I get to see my sexy husband in the middle of the day, it’s a nooner. End of conversation.”

  “It’s not the end of the conversation. I have rights in this relationship.”

  “No, you don’t, and we’re not in a relationship, you freak.”

  “Now you’re resorting to name-calling? I have so much dirt on you that you’d think you’d be nice to me just to keep me quiet.”

  “I could cut your tongue out with my rusty steak knife. That’d keep you quiet too.”

  He grunted out a laugh. “It always comes back to the steak knife with you, doesn’t it?”

  “It does, and you’d be wise to remember that.”

  Chapter Nine

  As Sam drove to the TV station downtown, she puzzled through the McLeod case from every angle, realizing they were no closer to answers than they’d been the day before. Her phone rang, and she took the call from Captain Malone on the Bluetooth, which was a nice feature on her new phone. “Lieutenant Holland, hands-free while driving. May I help you?”

  “She’s finally joined the twentieth century twenty years into the twenty-first, and she wants us to have a party,” Freddie said.

  “Young Freddie is particularly mouthy this morning,” Sam said. “We may need to do something about that at some point.”

  “Whatever,” Freddie said.

  “If you two are finished,” Malone said, sounding amused, “what’s up with McLeod?”

  “The whole world wanted her dead, and no one is sorry that someone actually killed her. Other than that, we’ve got jack. What’re you hearing from Crime Scene on the search for a murder weapon?”

  “Nothing yet. I’m hearing we’re looking for a Garden Weasel or some such thing?”

  “Yep.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Right?”

  “What’s your theory?” Malone asked.

  “Heat of the moment. Someone confronted her in the garage, they argued, it got heated, the perp reached for the first thing he or she could find and swung for the neck, scoring a direct hit.”

  “If they took the thing with them, we might never find it.”

  “I know, and there’s also the very good possibility that if we do find it, we won’t get squat from it, because we’re probably looking at a first-timer with no prints in the system, rather than a career criminal.”

  “True.”

  “Let me tell you, Cap. This woman had it coming. Her scheme was so brazen as to be impossible to comprehend.”

  “I read about it in the paper yesterday.”

  “No one in her life was immune. Her own siblings, cousins and closest friends… It’s unreal. It’d be like me scamming you guys, my sisters, Shelby.”

  “I’m not giving you my money,” Freddie said. “It’s enough that I’ve already turned over my soul to you.”

  “Do you see what I mean about young Freddie?” Sam asked the captain.

  He replied with wheezing laughter.

  “It’s not funny!” Sam said.

  “Yes, it is,” Freddie and the captain said together.

  Freddie shot her a smug look.

  “I can end this call with the push of one button.”

  “She has no idea which button,” Freddie said, “so that’s an empty threat.”

  It was a relief, in a way, to be getting back to some semblance of normalcy after the shock of her father’s death and the compounding shock of Conklin’s culpability. The levity was a welcome respite from the pervasive grief that’d touched everyone who’d loved Skip Holland, including Freddie Cruz and Jake Malone. “Remember the good old days when he was afraid of me?”

  “I do,” Malone said, “and I think I like this better.”

  “Me too,” Freddie said. “She’s taking me on a nooner with her husband. I shouldn’t be subjected to these things.”

  “Uh… I don’t know how to reply to that.”

  “Nick and I are going to have a chat with the reporter who asked if we’re going to have kids ‘of our own.’”

  “Oh damn. Really?”

  “Yep.”

  “Does she know you’re coming?”

  “Nope.”

  “I’ll take video,” Freddie said, “so we can all enjoy it.”

  “Do I need to warn you to tread carefully so we don’t attract more negative publicity?” Malone asked.

  “Nick will be with her to keep her under control,” Freddie said.

  “That’s true,” Malone said, chuckling.

  “If you two are quite finished, there’s something else I wanted to tell you, Cap,” Sam said. “Lenore Worthington came to see me this morning.”

  “I heard that. What’s up there?”

  “She heard we closed Dad’s cold case and asked if I’d be willing to take reopen her son Calvin’s case.”

  “How’d you leave it with her?”

  “That I’d run it up the flagpole. You’re the flagpole.”

  “I’ll pull the files and take a look.”

  “Thanks, Cap. I don’t want to leave her hanging. I told her I’d get back to her.”

  “Understood. I remember that case. Stayed with me for a long time. We never had so much as a lead or a thread to pull, as you would say.”

  “I’d love to dig into it after we close McLeod. If we close McLeod. Are we required to give despicable people the same level of effort we give innocent victims?”

  “Unfortunately, yes.”

  “There oughta be a law that says horrible people don’t get investigations when someone does the world a favor and ends them,” Sam said.

  “Of course you didn’t actually say that out loud,” Malone replied.

  “Of course I didn’t. But let it be said for the record, I’d much rather be taking a fresh look at Calvin Worthington’s murder than hearing about all the ways Ginny McLeod deserved a rototiller to the neck.”

  “Duly noted,” Malone said. “I’ll check with Haggerty and the lab to see if they have anything helpful.”

  “Keep me posted.”

  “Will do. Enjoy the nooner. That reporter won’t know what hit her.”

  “That’s the plan. Later, Cap.” She pressed a button to end the call and gave Freddie a smug look. “Check me out. Pressing buttons and getting it done.”

  “Um, you put the hazards on.”

  “I did not!”

  He cracked up. “Made you look.”

  “Oh my God. You’re a pain in the ass today.”

  “I do what I can for the
people.”

  “That’s my line, and it’s trademarked, which means you’re not allowed to use it without my permission. Did you find the McLeods’ daughter at Catholic?”

  “Duh, yes. Took me all of two seconds.”

  “Now you’re just being cocky.”

  “If the truth hurts…”

  Sam found a parking space near the studio to wait for Nick’s motorcade to arrive. “We’re doing the right thing confronting that reporter, right?”

  “Hell yes. If nothing else, that reporter needs to be taught some basic manners. And it’ll be good for her to hear how her ignorant question was repeated back to your son in freaking middle school, which is hellish enough without that.”

  “You said ‘freaking.’”

  “Don’t you think this situation deserves a good ‘freaking’?”

  “I do.”

  “What she did is horrifying, Sam, and she deserves to be humiliated in front of her colleagues.”

  “I don’t like to intentionally humiliate people, unless they’re murdering scumbags.”

  “This is an exception worth making.”

  “I’m glad you think so.”

  “Anyone who isn’t an asshole would think so.”

  “Wow, you’re on a tear today.”

  “I love Scotty like a nephew. I hate that he heard about it and that you guys had to deal with explaining it to him.”

  “I know, and thank you for loving him like a nephew. That’s sweet.”

  “It’s true. I don’t have siblings. I have you and your family and Gonzo and Jeannie and the family we’ve created together.”

  “I love that family.”

  “I do too, and when someone comes for one of us, they come for all of us.”

  A flash of light caught Sam’s attention. She glanced in the rearview mirror and saw the motorcade pull onto the street. Her heart gave a happy lurch at knowing she’d see Nick in a minute. “Here comes the cavalry.”

  They got out of Sam’s car to wait on the sidewalk.

  Brant was the first one out of Nick’s car. The handsome young agent took a good look around, nodded to Sam and Freddie and then opened the door for Nick. Other agents swarmed the area, and some went inside ahead of them. They had this down to a well-oiled routine they never deviated from, which was what kept Nick as safe as he could be under the circumstances.