Chapter Sixteen
I jolted awake, completely disorientated. Looking around the beige, sparse room, I couldn't work out where I was. Then it all came flooding back to me. I was in a safe house, on the sofa in the living room and there was a warm, heavy arm draped over me.
For a moment, I froze, then relaxed, because, actually, being stretched out on the sofa with Adam behind me was quite nice. Better than nice. For the first time in a few days, I'd gotten a full night's sleep. I was warm and not panicking about what was going to happen because I already knew I wasn't going anywhere; and Maddox had assured me several times that no one could get to me here.
Although Maddox told me to pack for a few days, we both knew this could stretch on a lot longer than that. That depressed me slightly. It wasn't just that I missed the opportunity to have this week's timecard signed so I would get paid, but I could be missing many more days, even weeks. I closed my eyes for a minute and tried not to think about that. I tried to think about my mother saying “What will be will be,” but it wasn't all that soothing, given that there were quite a few scenarios that I didn't want to be in.
I wriggled, working the cricks out of my neck and stretched. Adam's arm tightened over me and I stopped. I could feel something pressing into my back as he pulled me against him, our bodies in full contact. Shame we were wearing yesterday's clothes.
"Morning," Maddox mumbled sleepily as he looped his leg through mine.
"Hey," I replied, pausing before adding, "I didn't mean to fall asleep here." I didn't remember much after crying my eyes out and wailing about my hair. I had a vague recollection of curling up next to him, but I didn't remember stretching out with him.
"No problem."
"Adam?"
"Hmm?"
I couldn't help it. I'd slept awkwardly and I needed to wriggle. Behind me, Maddox tensed and his arm held me still, his palm flat against my stomach. He groaned softly. "Could you move your gun?" I asked, my head still fuzzy with sleep.
"My gun's on the table."
"Then, what's..." Oh! My eyes widened.
He moved, and a moment later, a CD container landed on the coffee table. Ahh. Not quite what I expected. I giggled and rolled my shoulders, working out the kinks. Something still prodded me.
“If the next thing you remove is a bunny rabbit, I’m outta here,” I told him.
Maddox's breath was soft against my neck, and, if I weren't mistaken, his lips brushed my skin. "It's morning," he said, by way of explanation for the continued prodding. "I'm warm. I don't want to move, but you need to stop wriggling or it's not going to go away."
Oh.
Did I want it to go away? I wasn't sure. Truth was, it was nice being snuggled up to Maddox. There was a heat spiraling through me that suggested less clothing might make it even nicer. A bed would make the moment fantastic, but I couldn't work miracles. Also, he smelled really nice. Warm, masculine, and a little citrusy. Being this close to him made my breath quicken and other parts of me dance a jig.
Like he could read my mind, I felt a tug at my t-shirt, before Maddox's hand slid underneath, caressing my stomach, while his lips settled on my neck. I was pretty certain now that Maddox's morning condition had as much to do with me as it did with waking up, but it struck me as rude to point that out. Without thinking, I pressed against him, rubbing slightly. His lips slid from my neck to nibble my shoulders, while his hand slid further upwards, over my stomach, then softly over my bra. I knew he felt my breath quicken.
"Lexi," he murmured.
I twisted next to him, finding his mouth and kissing him hard, my hands running over his morning stubble to his muscular shoulders. Then we were moving, shuffling, and somehow I ended up under Maddox. I had one knee drawn up against the back of the couch, while the other foot dropped to the floor as he lay between my legs and returned the kiss eagerly. He fumbled the zipper on my sweatshirt, tugging it down and pushing it apart while my shirt rode up at his hands.
I moaned when he pushed himself against me, sending a spark of fire through me that shot south, his kisses becoming more urgent. I wrapped my arms around him, a moan escaping me when his lips left mine. He slid down my body, his lips returning to the soft swell of my breasts as he kissed them through my bra. Then on the skin, then back to my mouth as my hands fumbled with his fly.
I'd only just tugged it open, my hand sliding inside his jeans, when I heard the front door open. Maddox looked up, his body suddenly tense. I caught the brief register of annoyance as it flashed across his face.
"Breakfast," called a man's voice. Solomon's. The door banged shut and his footsteps sounded in the hall.
"Shit," said Maddox, scrambling off me and falling to his knees on the floor. I rolled onto my side, pulled down my shirt and leaned over.
When Solomon came through the door, I pretended to be tying my laces. When I looked up, running fingers through my hair to smooth it, Maddox was on the other side of the room, his shirt untucked and his jeans zippered. At least, I thought they were.
"I brought bagels," said Solomon, looking from me to Maddox, his face blank. "Anything happen?"
"Not a thing," said Maddox, glancing at me, and I thought I heard a hint of regret. I knew how he felt, though I couldn’t help feeling a little relieved that our first time hadn’t taken place on a crusty couch in a stark, safe house, rather than in, say, my lovely bed.
On the plus side, I was really hungry and Solomon had fresh bagels, so I couldn't be too miffed.
I finished my bagel in record time and reached for another, washing it down with a glass of orange juice, already curious what we were having for lunch. It may have been a good thing for my waistline that I couldn't invade the kitchen for a snack, seeing as we had, literally, nothing in the cupboards, but I was starting to think like a prisoner... or a puppy. I wanted to know where my next meal was coming from, something I never had to think about before. Being in the same room with Maddox and Solomon was uncomfortable enough, body heat-wise, but being solely reliant on them was intolerable.
"What's wrong?" asked Maddox.
"Nothing," I said thinking about my mother's roast chicken. "What's happening today?"
"Nothing." Maddox and Solomon exchanged glances.
"I know that look. What's going on?"
"Someone left a gift at your house last night," said Solomon.
"What kind of gift?"
"Chocolate."
"I like chocolate."
"These had tire marks across the box."
"Someone ran over chocolates and left them for me?” I frowned. “That's nutso."
"Dead flowers, creepy screensaver, flowers in your living room... the chocolates look like another warning to me. I'm glad we got you out of there," said Maddox.
"I don't suppose..."
"What?"
"Did you bring any chocolate with you?" I asked Solomon and his chest did a fast rise and fall like he was trying not to laugh.
Maddox’s face clouded. "Someone threatens you, but you're more concerned about the chocolate?"
"It's part of my five-a-day diet."
"That's fruit and vegetables."
"Chocolate comes from the cocoa bean and a bean is a vegetable," I justified. Maddox and Solomon just stared at me. "Ask any woman," I told them. "It's true."
Maddox just shook his head and turned to Solomon. "Did the ballistics report on the Finklesteins come in?"
"No traces in the system. The gun was probably a throwaway. The bullets in the Finklesteins didn't match the bullets in Martin Dean."
"The Finklesteins shot Dean. They couldn't shoot themselves," I pointed out, just in case no one spotted the obvious.
"She's smart," said Solomon. He winked at me.
I suspected he was being sarcastic, but I thanked him sweetly anyway. Two could play at that game.
"She's got a point,” said Maddox and I smiled at him. “Our perp hasn't left any prints, his gun isn't in the system, and we have no idea who he is."
&nbs
p; "And no one saw him leave the chocolates?" I asked.
Maddox shook his head. "The car watching your apartment left an hour after us. We had someone do a tail, but they lost it. No one was watching." Now he sounded annoyed.
"What about Tanya Henderson?" I asked.
"What about her?"
"Did anyone cross reference the bullet in her during the autopsy?"
Maddox looked over at Solomon. "Did they?" he asked.
"I'll check," said Solomon. "No one mentioned anything."
"So what now? We wait for another body to show up?" I didn't need an answer. I just sighed. This majorly sucked.
"We have some leads to work on," said Maddox, right before he and Solomon sloped off to the kitchen. Alone, the only thing I could do was turn on the television. I flicked through the channels, finally selecting car racing. Not my cup of tea, but there was something soothing about watching the cars whiz around the track, one after another, time and time again, knowing exactly where they were going.
There was something else about the cars that niggled at me all morning. At last, I was sure that I knew something else, something creeping on the periphery of my mind, but the thought stayed half-baked, just like the idea I was formulating about the policies I felt sure were fraudulent.
Finally, like a little light bulb going off in my head, I knew the answer. "I've got it!" I exclaimed, racing through to the kitchen where Maddox and Solomon looked up at me in surprise as I burst in. "I've got it," I repeated.
Maddox looked at me expectantly. "Got what?"
As soon as I realized, all the pieces clicked into place. I knew who was involved in the Green Hand Insurance scam and how the whole scheme had come about. I knew who was after me and I knew why. And it was all down to one casual little photograph in the files I'd innocently given to Martin Dean, the same files that had been stolen, the same files that I imagined the task force perused repeatedly, but came up with nothing. I knew the perpetrator had put it together too.
"Everything," I said. "Adam, do you have copies of the files I worked on for Dean?"
"Yes. I have them on my laptop in the living room."
"Pull them up," I told him. We huddled around the laptop while the files whirred into view, with me wedged between the men on the couch. I tried not to savor it.
"Which one?" he asked, the pointer hovering over the window.
I pointed to the file in the top right. "This one here." Maddox double-clicked and we waited for it to open. "Scroll to the second page," I told him. The page moved down and then the photograph appeared. Below that was the photograph that explained everything.
"It wasn't anything to do with legislature, or research or all those surveys Green Hand does. It was this silly puff piece for the feature-style, ad Green Hand wanted to place in the Montgomery Gazette. The one where Martin Dean wanted to look like every householder's best friend."
"Keep going," urged Maddox.
"Green Hand wanted Dean to look like your average Joe," I explained. "He was supposed to be the guy next door, your friend, your brother, the man you trusted to look after you. The guy you wanted to buy insurance from. The idea was to show a montage of pictures that portrayed that, alongside the slogan of how Green Hand insurance would make you feel secure. Here's one where he's playing basketball with underprivileged kids. Scroll down. And here's one where he's planting a new tree in the park at the corner of the kids' playground Green Hand helped fund. But it's this picture that tells us everything."
I took over the mouse and glided the page up until the not-so-innocent photo embedded in my report filled the screen. "This is Martin Dean at his car club. He was a member for years. They restore vintage cars and drive them, put on races, stuff like that. Look who he's with." Tara Henderson had even mentioned how cool her sister thought Dean's car was. I pointed to the man next to Dean. "That's Ron Harris. He's an award winning insurance broker. Green Hand underwrites his insurance deals. I think he wrote the fake insurance certificates, set up fake addresses, and got the fake policies into the system. All they had to do was wait it out, then make their claims and get paid. He was killed recently, a hit-and-run. But look who else is in the picture."
Simultaneously, Maddox and Solomon leaned forward. "That's the mayor, Chris Mathis," said Maddox and I nodded.
"Right. Old money, you think? Town gossip says the family money was running out. They can barely keep the estate afloat." Town gossip was actually my mom, but I didn’t think that lent a lot of credibility to my claim.
"How was Mathis part of it?" asked Maddox.
"He was the money man. Well, what little he had left of it. He helped create the fake policies too and funded them until it was time to claim. He was killed in a hit-and-run too. Kind of a coincidence, right? Three men in this picture are dead." I pointed to the fourth man. "Ten points if you guess who he is."
"Tell me," said Maddox.
I smiled. "He's Hector Ramos, president of Montgomery First Bank."
"Another money man," said Solomon.
"That's right, but Ramos doesn't just fund the policies. I checked a bunch of accounts that paid out recently, all paid through his bank, all fake accounts, I’ll bet. I’ve been thinking. He could manage the expenses to fund the policies and then re-gather it when it got paid back, maybe transferring it to another account or offshore. This is how they remained unconnected, how no one could put the gang together. You were looking for people who knew each other, but on paper, they didn't. They didn't go to school with each other, or college. They didn't particularly socialize with one another either. All they had in common was their car club and it's not member-based. There's no register. It's just a loose, informal, thing for a bunch of guys who love old cars. This picture is only around because someone snapped it randomly and it made its way into an old edition of the Gazette, which is where I found it."
"We know what happened to Harris and Mathis. You're right, that it's too much of a coincidence they were killed. My money is on Ramos getting rid of the other three," said Maddox.
I had come to the same conclusion, but now I wasn't so sure. "You think Ramos planned to take the money and run, cutting the other three out of the deal?" I asked.
"No, I think Dean got cold feet when he saw your report and realized they were connected. I bet he called his buddies and said he wanted out. He probably knew we were onto him, but not how or when we would strike. I suspect he wanted to take his money and split, pulling the plug on the whole operation."
"But they didn't want to." I sighed. Money made people do such stupid things.
Maddox shook his head. "No. Maybe the other three got greedy. We'll run their financials. Maybe it was Mathis' mounting debts. Maybe they just wanted a little more. Or maybe they knew the scam couldn't last much longer. They were cashing in more and more policies. They would want as much as they could get. With Dean out of the picture, maybe they thought they could keep going and split it three ways instead of four."
"There's just one thing I don't get," I said. "With Dean dead, they could keep going for a while, maybe even get someone else in Green Hand to funnel the fake claims through. But someone killed Harris and Mathis. I can understand wanting to eliminate Dean, but the other two? And Tanya? And who is after me?"
"That still points to Ramos," pointed out Maddox. He placed a call, giving instructions to have Hector Ramos picked up.
"If you thought Ramos had it in him, you would have said that straight off, right?" pressed Solomon. He had a little knowing smile on his face, one that told me he had reached the same conclusion.
"Yep. I think there's someone else."
"Who?" asked Maddox.
I threw my hands in the air, the flat photograph of the four men smiling proudly back at me. "That's the problem, I don't know."
We went through the details over and over and nothing emerged. If anything, I just felt more frustrated. When Maddox's cell phone rang, he answered on the second ring, listening briefly then hanging up. "Ramos' wife r
eported him missing two days ago," he told us, sliding the phone back into his pocket.
"That's not good," I said.
"Ramos could be the killer. Maybe he ran?" persisted Maddox. "He could be out of the country by now."
I shook my head. "Mathis, Harris and Dean are all dead. Unless Ramos really hated his wife, I think he's dead too," I said. "Plus, he wouldn't go missing without the money and I don't think they've got it yet. He's worked too hard for it. That’s why someone came after me. Whatever Tanya Henderson had, they think I now have.” It hit me. “They can’t get the money.”
We all stared hard at the photograph, but I shook my head. There were a couple of faces visible in the background where a cluster of people stood. "I don't know anyone else in this picture," I said.
"I'll send it to the team. They can run facial recognition." Maddox took over the keyboard, his hands flying across it. "Done. Let's see if they get any hits."
"What now?"
"Now, we wait," said Maddox. “I need to stretch my legs.”
I hated waiting.
When Solomon and Maddox went out of the house to talk together about secret stuff, or their weekend plans—who knew?—I went into the living room and pulled out my notepad and the sheet of notes I'd made in the office. Keeping my finger on the first address Lily had checked, I flipped through the notebook. On the third page, I struck gold. The first set of numbers before the slash matched an account number on my list. After that first slash, the numbers were still a mystery. I suspected that the digits were made up of a partial encryption, with the first part simply an account number. But what could the second, third and fourth parts mean?
I ran my finger down the list and found a policy opening date near to the first one that I matched. The account number matched another one on the list. The month read March. I penciled “March” on a sticky and added it to the notebook page as I flicked back to the beginning. Every few pages, there was a blank, and the same pattern continued until I counted twelve sections. I wrote the months on sticky notes and added a note to each section. Now that I had a way of differentiating the numbers, I quickly found seventy-six of the accounts on my list written in the notebook, each with a corresponding six-digit policy opening date. All I had to do was work out what the last two parts of Dean's notes meant; but I folded it away when Maddox and Solomon came back. I would share when I had the whole thing worked out.
There was one thing I was sure of. This innocent looking notebook was the master list for every fraud the gang had committed. The question was, did whoever was after me want this piece of the puzzle too? Was this what they needed? Not the key Tanya Henderson held?
Solomon took off after an hour to who knew where—I’m not even sure Maddox knew all the time where he went—leaving us alone again, a shared pizza between us. Both of us were on edge, knowing how close we were to breaking the case. I paced the floor, munching a slice, waiting while Maddox filed his report. Every so often, he would look up and ask me a question, his forehead furrowed with lines, then duck back down, typing quickly as I gave him my answers.
Try as I might, however many questions he asked, I couldn't imagine who the fifth person could be.
"I don't think the fifth person is connected to the group at all," I said finally, coming to a standstill in front of him, my hands on my hips. "Five even sounds too many for a group. It's another person they trust to keep quiet, another person to split the proceeds with. Maybe we shouldn't look for a connection to the gang. Just like they weren't really close, this fifth person isn't close to them either."
"What does your gut tell you?"
"Blackmail. I think someone found out and wanted a piece of the pie."
"But they didn't get it?" Maddox leaned back and stretched.
"No, because Dean was killed. But it would make sense how the others started dying, or disappearing. The fifth person was chasing the money. Not just a little bit of it, all of it, and I don't think he can get it. Maybe each of them had part of the puzzle to recover the money," I mused. I was thinking about the object Martin Dean's girlfriend had died to retrieve, the keys I'd pried from her hands. It had to have been something small and something the water wouldn't damage. "It was probably the fifth person who killed Tanya.” Another thought occurred to me. “None of them seemed extra wealthy at their time of death, right?"
"We combed Dean's records and there was nothing, which was why we were spying. When Dean’s name kept coming up in the investigation that was when I got put into his department. I was trying to find out who exactly in Green Hand was part of it, as well as how it was going down. My team is pulling Mathis’, Harris’ and Ramos' financials now. We can comb them, but I think we'll find the same thing. Nothing.” Maddox sounded exasperated. “They probably have it stashed somewhere?"
"In a bank account? Ramos would be able to move and collect the money. If he turned it into cash, it could be in storage or in the vault. Somewhere safe where they could collect it when the time came, when and if, any suspicion was gone."
"So, if none of them trusted each other to keep the money, and they all had something that enabled them to collect it together, all the fifth person had to do was find all four pieces of the puzzle and wait it out." Maddox folded his arms behind his head.
"Except the heat is on," I noted. "If that person connected the dots, they must know we can too. They need to get the money and fast."
"This mystery person is going to go for the money and disappear," said Maddox with a sigh. "Then he’s gone."
"Unless we get there first." If we cracked the case, I could go home, back to my own bed, and, more importantly, my own life. I took a deep breath and put a dent in my plan. "The only thing is, Adam, the fifth person knows who I am, but I don't know who he is."
"The Finklesteins?”
"If they weren’t dead,” I replied. I paced the floor while Maddox watched me. “But some of those creepy messages came after they were shot. It has to be the person who shot Tanya. They knew we were following her that night. Maybe they think I'm after the money too, that I know all the fraudsters are dead except Ramos. They just think I know who they are," I surmised.
"It's not enough to keep you safe. You figured out the rest of it. Until we stop that person, you're still in danger."
Shit.
"I believe Dean's girlfriend's key is one of the items he needs," I said. "It's still the only thing I can think of that could have been hidden in the toilet tank. It wouldn't have gotten damaged like a map or a code, and was easy to move. No one else knew Dean went there, so it would be a safe place to hide it. We need to look at lockers. The bus station? Ramos’ vault for sure."
"None of her effects have been released so we have the key at the precinct. Maybe she was after the money too?"
"I don't know, maybe. Maybe Dean told her to hide it, and she never knew what it was for. She might have been threatened and told to get it, or maybe she thought she was getting a share once she handed over the key."
"But she was killed anyway."
"Yeah."
“The key wasn’t a high priority item.” Maddox took out his cell phone and placed a call, instructing someone to pull the keys and find out what they fitted. And fast.
I yanked my notes and the book out of my purse, settling in the corner of the sofa adjacent to Maddox. I started with the first number I'd identified and checked my notes on the corresponding page. I sighed and ticked off a four-digit number. It was so obvious, it hadn't even occurred to me to check. The first set was the policy number, the second the policy date. The third set of numbers, which varied between three and six figures, was the claim amount; in this case eight thousand, two hundred and fifty dollars.
"What's the sigh for?"
I held up my hand, my eyes focused on the sheet. "Do you have an account at Montgomery Bank?" I asked.
"No. Why?"
"Do you know if the account numbers have any pattern?"
"I can find out, if you tell me why." r />
"I'm not sure yet, but I think I found something. Hang on." I moved to the next number on my list. The claim amount fitted there too. Just to be sure, I checked the next three. All matched up. I moved over to Maddox, snuggling on the sofa next to him.
"Don't get mad," I said, "but I found something that belonged to Dean. I wasn't sure what it was at first. It just seemed like a random list of numbers." I flipped to the first page and pointed to the numbers. "They're all like this. A series of numbers then a slash, a shorter series, another slash, then another series of numbers.” I explained the significance of the numbers. “I don’t what the final set of numbers mean, but I think it's probably the fake bank account." I moved my list to the front. "And see here? Most of these claims say Boston Test Group or BTG. The test group Scott in the call center told me about is really a front for the fraud op. It was a way for Dean and the others to bypass the claims inspectors and make sure they got their money. It's no wonder it looked like it was all streamlined. It was all fake."
"Where did you find this?"
"Um... at Dean's," I said vaguely.
"His office?"
"Not exactly."
"His house?" Maddox pressed.
"Well..."
"Please tell me you didn't tamper with a crime scene."
"I didn't tamper with a crime scene," I said solemnly, and with the exception of removing two important clues, I hadn't. Besides, the police had already been through Dean's house before me, so really, I was in the clear. "Anyway… Dean is hardly going to come back from the dead and say, ‘Hey, that was in my house’."
"I didn't hear that." Maddox studied the list, cross-referencing it against my notes. "You know what you've got here, right?"
"Yes," I said, a smile spreading over my face. "The master list of the whole scam."
"I can’t believe we missed it. I have to take this to my boss. It's key evidence."
"But, there isn't going to be a trial unless Ramos turns up."
"And when he does, we have enough to put him behind bars for years."
"Awesome." Since no one else was going to say it, I would. I was good at this. Really good.
Maddox placed a call to Solomon, but evidently, he didn't answer. Maddox said, "I have to take this in right away. You'll be okay here by yourself. I'll lock up. Just stay away from the windows and don't answer the door."
Panic gripped me. "Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Isn't it safer if I go with you?"
"No. I don't want you seen. Plus, your family is ready to lynch me."
"Seriously?"
"I told Garrett you were in my custody until this was all over, and he threatened to do scary things to my nuts."
I warmed with pride. My brothers always took it upon themselves to gang up on my boyfriends when I was younger. I found solace in that the older two ended up with no-nonsense women, and if Jord got his head around it, he'd complete the set with Lily, who wouldn't put up with any macho shit either. None of us had any choice about Ted, so I was pretty sure my brothers wanted to make sure that I got someone better. Their concern ran side-by-side with interference and self-preservation. My future husband would have to a pretty awesome guy to pass their roadblocks. Clearly, Maddox hadn't been warmed to yet.
I wondered what they would think of Solomon. Solomon could probably take all three of them without breaking a sweat.
"Fine. But hurry please, because if anything happens to me, they'll never find your body." I was pretty sure this was true.
"Point taken."
Maddox walked the house, inside and out, before showing me how to operate the controls for the cameras on his laptop, and finally locking up. He left me with a key, but gave firm instructions not to go anywhere, which he repeated four times, just in case I didn’t get it. He was gone a total of forty-three minutes, not that I was clock-watching, and returned just as my mind started to taunt me with every strange creak and groan in the house.
I pounced on him as soon as I opened the door. "What did your boss say?" I asked.
"Matt's happy that we have the list. He's passed it onto our tech guys to crunch the numbers. We should know exactly how much the scam is worth inside a day, plus, we'll be able to build a paper trail of every account, who opened it at the bank, what addresses were used. Maybe find a digital trail too. The techies are thrilled. They had too much information to wade through before, hundreds of thousands of policies. You blew the case wide open." Maddox hugged me, the clinch lasting a little too long to be friendly, but just as I thought about standing on tiptoes and kissing him, his pants started to vibrate, which, I have to say, wasn't an altogether bad feeling, but there was the possibility I'd been indoors too long.
"Solomon," said Maddox, suddenly attentive. When he hung up, the news wasn't good. “Hector Ramos' body was found in a dumpster this morning, and only just identified. To make matters worse, his thumb was cut off.”
“He was tortured?”
Maddox nodded. “The coroner thinks it was pre-mortem.”
"That's all four of the gang dead," I said, my heart sinking. "Five if we add Dean's girlfriend." Seven, if I added Twinkles and Knuckles to the list.
Maddox hugged me tighter. He didn't need to say it. We were both thinking the same thing. There was definitely someone else out there.
And I really didn't want to make eight.