by Terry Spear
“Are you sure you don’t want to swap places with your cousin? Is he as well trained as you?” Natalie asked.
“Yeah, he is. But no, I don’t want to exchange places with him. You’re already paying me to be your bodyguard.”
“You wanted the job for free, you said,” she reminded him.
“Right, just room and board.”
Using her cell phone, she snapped a shot of Brock, then texted someone.
“Did I look sufficiently growly for that picture? That’s why your mom wants a picture of me, right? To see if I can handle the bad guys?”
“Knowing Mom, she’s wants your photo so she can see if you are mate material as far as passing on good genes to prospective kids.”
Brock laughed. Then his phone rang. He was surprised to see the caller ID showed it was Marek—the counterfeit-bill carrier himself. Brock quickly answered the call. “Hey, Marek. I’m putting this on speakerphone so my mate can listen in.” He figured since he and Natalie were going with that story, he’d stick to it. “What can I do for you?”
“Hand over the bag you took from the airport. And we’ll call it even.”
“Sentimental value? I don’t have it.”
“What did you do with the money?”
“Burned it. No way could we let you keep it. You know what happens to rogue wolves dealing in crime.”
“I have to turn over the money. I don’t have a choice. My life depends on it.”
“Weren’t you listening to me? It’s gone. The money made a great bonfire for a cookout. Rogue wolves don’t live long, one way or another. If you play the game and get caught, you have no one to blame but yourself. The money’s gone. You’ll have to square it with your boss. You shouldn’t have been drinking and gotten thrown off the flight. Sure messed things up for you and put you squarely in our territory to deal with. Good thing for us, though, before the police caught you at it.”
Carrying laptops and looking ready to work, Vaughn and Jillian walked into the ranch house, and Natalie signaled that Brock’s call was on speaker. They nodded and silently took seats in the living room.
“Marek, are you still there?” Brock asked.
“Yeah. Okay, so what if I tell you the boss’s name? And you get rid of him?”
Brock was surprised at this turn of events. “What about you?”
“You let me go, and I won’t get into any more trouble. Hell, I’m not cut out to be a criminal. Every time I try to do anything illegal, I screw it up. The other thing is…you don’t hassle my friends. Lettie told me she mentioned their names to you.”
“Are they in this business with you?”
“No.”
If they weren’t, then what difference would it make if he and Natalie questioned them?
“You’ll let me go? Just pretend I don’t exist?”
“Only if you keep your nose clean and nobody’s already been hurt by what you’ve done. Why did you move to Amarillo?”
“Lettie left me. Then the boss said he wanted me to move to Amarillo because we’ve got a couple of guys working on the money who live there. I was supposed to oversee the operation and get the real dollar bills. Then the others would bleach them and print them. I had to put up my own money for this operation. Ten thousand one-dollar bills. All gone now because of you.”
“Hell, sounds like you’re running the operation. What does the boss do?”
“Gets the ink, set up the printing operation, hired these guys. Ink Man, who does all the artwork. The printer. The boss is in thick with the middleman who finds stoolies, humans, to spend the money, then return the goods and get real money, and he gives them a percentage of the cash. But they don’t know who any of us are. He changes up the drop-off point all the time.”
“Have you put any of the money you’ve created in circulation yet?”
“Some. I was supposed to give this batch to the middleman, and he was going to pay me my capital back and a hearty return on my investment. I started out with ten thousand and would have gotten thirty thousand in hundred-dollar bills. Then I begin the process again.”
“Have you been doing this for a while?” Brock asked again, not believing this was a one-time occurrence. It sounded like they’d been in operation for some time.
“Just got started.”
“If you get into anything more than this, you go down. And I mean for anything else criminal. Not just for making funny money.”
“Are you going to handle him? The boss? You’ll have to remove the middleman too. The boss wouldn’t say, but I think he’s a relative of his. Cousin, brother, or something. If you don’t eliminate him, he’ll be looking for blood.”
“We will if we can. The boss is living here in the Denver area?”
“Yeah. Carlson Johnson.”
“Address?”
“Denver area. He would never say where. We’d meet at a specific location he came up with to talk about how far we’d gotten on the printing job. The guys we found who could actually do the artwork and printing live in Amarillo, and they wouldn’t move their operation to Denver. I had to bring the real money there to them. Does the boss use a fake name? Probably. Is he a wolf? Yeah. So are the other men on the crew.”
“I’ll need the names of the other men.”
“Are you…you going to eliminate them?”
“Buddies of yours?” Brock wondered if Marek just wanted to keep his crew for more of the same work later but wanted Brock to remove the boss and the middleman so he could be in charge.
“No. First time I ever met them. I don’t have a name for the one. He goes by Ink Man. And the other is Antonio. No last name,” Marek said.
“Are they with a pack?”
“No. Not me either. Don’t think Carlson is either.”
Packs could make it easier—or harder, if the pack was participating in the crime. If the pack wasn’t taking part in criminal activities, they would handle the wolf themselves, and that would make the situation even easier.
“Whether I terminate them depends on how they react. Are they getting out of their life of crime? Going to keep it up? Will they try to kill me? We do have the offer of a facility to incarcerate shifters. The jaguars run it. We might end up putting the lot of you there if you don’t cooperate. Since you say you’re quitting the business, where are you going now?” Brock asked.
“I’m leaving. Getting out of the country.”
“How’s your brother tangled up in all of this?”
There was a prolonged silence, and Brock assumed he’d shocked Marek to the core by knowing anything about his brother.
“He’s not.”
“Okay, listen, we know he is. And the same goes for him. If he continues doing this crap, he’s a dead wolf. Is he still in Denver?”
No response.
“We’ll find him. Don’t do anything illegal anywhere else.”
“I won’t, but leave my brother out of it.” Marek hung up on him.
Brock didn’t believe the man would give up his life of crime, not with the setup they had. He and Natalie needed to find not only the boss and his brother, the middleman, but also Marek’s brother, who must be just as involved in all this mess. Not to mention that Ink Man and Antonio needed to be dealt with.
Then Brock’s cousin Shawn showed up at the ranch house. His gaze quickly singled out Natalie.
“You have the parents to protect,” Brock reminded him. “The lady is mine.”
Shawn smiled.
Yeah, Brock knew how it sounded. He hadn’t meant to say it quite that way, certainly not in front of Natalie or his brother and sister-in-law.
Vaughn and Jillian smiled from where they were sitting nearby on another couch, their own laptops open.
“Hey, one of our cousins is going to drive your rental car back to the airport for you, if that’s okay wi
th you,” Vaughn said to Natalie.
“Oh yeah, that would be great. Thanks. We were going to do that after we left Boulder but got distracted. I’ll grab the keys.” Natalie went up to her room and pulled them out of her purse, then went back down to the living room and handed them to Vaughn. “Thanks again.”
“No problem. It saves you guys having to drop by the airport before you get on the road tomorrow morning,” Vaughn said.
That was one great thing about the pack and Brock’s family. They always had someone willing to help out.
“Do you believe Marek’s going to give this business up?” Natalie asked.
“No. I don’t think he’ll be after you or your parents though. He wanted the money. With it gone, the counterfeiters only have to worry about me. Well, and Vaughn, Jillian, and Shawn, if we catch up with them.”
“Do you think Marek gave you the real names for the boss and the other men working in this operation?” she asked.
“If they aren’t using fake names already.”
Natalie got on her phone and called someone. “Hey, Lettie? I’m so sorry to be bothering you again, but Marek said the boss is Carlson Johnson. Do you know where he lives?” She put the call on speaker.
Brock was surprised at how much Natalie seemed to be enjoying her part in all this.
“No. I don’t know him, or where he lives. I told you, I know nothing about their operation.”
“You don’t know Antonio?”
“No! I was never into any of that.”
“But when I handed you the hundred-dollar bill, you knew that it was a fake bill right away. You knew who was responsible for it. I mean, I could have been the one who was making them. Or I could have been paid for something and got stuck with the bill, thinking it was real.”
Lettie didn’t say anything.
“You knew all about the operation, didn’t you?”
“No. I. Didn’t. Not until Marek was running late coming home one night, and I accused him of seeing another woman. Some cute little thing he was hitting on at a café. I didn’t know he had given her a tip that was a fake bill. He explained to me why he’d done it, just to see if it would pass.”
“He gave her a hundred-dollar tip?”
“No. He was making fives, tens, and twenties. I didn’t know he had graduated to hundred-dollar bills. It might take longer to get his money back, but most places don’t pay any attention to the smaller denominations. Just think, you hand over a five that feels like the real paper because it is, when you actually started out with a one-dollar bill, and you ‘make’ four dollars on the deal. Yeah, it’s not the same as ninety-nine dollars on a dollar bill, but it’s a lot less risky.”
“So he wasn’t passing out hundred-dollar bills?”
“No. He’s too cautious for that. I’m sure he’s giving the bills to someone else who can pass them off.”
“I thought you didn’t know anything about the operation.”
“I didn’t. He told me when he was trying to explain why he was being so friendly to the waitress. That was the living end for me. Is that all?”
“Are you sure you don’t know Antonio or Ink Man?”
“Yes.”
“What about…Marek’s brother?”
“Jimmy? Don’t tell me he’s actually doing this too. I’ve known him for as long as I’ve known Marek. He thinks he’s a real lady’s man, and he didn’t like it when I wouldn’t give him the time of day. But I didn’t know he could be doing this too.”
“Where is he now?”
“Amarillo. Marek might not like it that his twin brother hit on me whenever he could, but he knew I wasn’t interested. The guy is a real jerk. When Marek was supposedly checking on his sick aunt, would Jimmy go with him? Or go instead of him? Nope.”
“What does he do for a living?”
“Tattoos.”
Natalie glanced at the others. They were listening with rapt attention while Brock was making notes.
“You know, go figure. Wolves don’t wear tats. It would be too dangerous if a wolf were caught wearing tattoos under their fur. But he’s into that and…” Lettie paused. “Art. Ohmigod, maybe he’s the one who’s designing the money for them.” She snorted. “Live fast and die young. Is that all?”
“Thanks. Yeah. Talk later.”
“Not if I can help it.” Lettie hung up on her.
“So he’s passing bills of other denominations,” Brock said, thinking Natalie needed to be in the PI business with him. “And Jimmy, brother to Marek, could be Ink Man.”
“Sounds like it. Did Marek pass a phony bill just the one time, or is he doing it on a regular basis?” Vaughn asked.
“If he’s got the setup, he could print out any denomination. Does the boss know he’s doing this on his own? Using smaller print denominations? If you find and eliminate the boss, Marek has free rein to do what he’s been doing. Especially if the boss already paid for the equipment and ink. Marek would get the lion’s share of the profits. He’s already using his own money,” Jillian said. “Oh, but you’d also have to eliminate the middleman, who could be Carlson’s relation. And Marek’s counting on it. Then who’s at fault? Not Marek. You.”
Brock agreed and began looking at his laptop. “No wonder Marek didn’t want us going after Ink Man, if that’s his brother. He probably doesn’t figure we’ll be able to learn who he is.”
“Unless his brother riled Marek one too many times by hitting on Lettie when she was dating Marek,” Natalie said.
“True. Okay, so no Carlson Johnson listed anywhere in Colorado on the database I pulled up.”
“Fake name then,” Natalie said.
“Most likely. Or Marek made up the name, not intending for us to find him,” Brock said.
“Or,” Vaughn said, “the boss doesn’t exist. Marek made him up, and he was really coming here to deliver the money to the middleman who will distribute it. Only we had a bonfire with it.”
“Could be,” Brock said. “That’s the trouble with dealing with criminals. They lie.”
“I can’t believe anyone would do something so stupid as to make all this money and then try to pass it off as the real deal. It would be easy to get caught, I would think,” Natalie said.
“It’s big business. The funniest case I ever heard of involved the con men getting conned by con men. You know, if something sounds too good to be true, it probably is,” Brock said. “In this one case, two brothers from Spain put a down payment on a famous Goya painting. It had a certificate proving its authenticity. Did the brothers think they were paying a low price for a painting worth millions because it had been stolen? Not sure, but probably. In any case, when they learned it was a fake, they tried to sell it to an Arab sheikh through an Italian middleman for four million euros. They paid the middleman three hundred thousand euros in broker’s fees as a commission that they’d borrowed from a friend. The payment they received was 1.7 million Swiss francs as a down payment.
“When they took the money to a Swiss bank, they learned the bills were just photocopies. Customs at the border discovered the counterfeit money in their bag. Fake sheikh, fake money, fake painting. The middleman had conned the brothers and ended up with the only real money in the deal—the three hundred thousand euros. The brothers went to jail. The fake painting was confiscated. And the sheikh, if there really had been one, and the middleman disappeared with the real money. Which teaches the moral, if you’re going to do a con, make sure you’re not the ones being conned,” Brock said.
Natalie and the others laughed. “Sounds to me like these guys had been conned twice already, which meant they should have stopped while they were behind.”
“Exactly. And my point is if Marek has been having trouble being successful in criminal ventures—his own words—he should leave well enough alone. You also see how the criminal mind works. If one thing doesn�
��t succeed, try and try again. The Spanish brothers had been conned once. Instead of giving up, they figured they might as well con someone else. It doesn’t stop.” Brock was sure of it where Marek was concerned.
“You still want us to locate the boss and the middleman, and you’ll go to Amarillo and find the others?” Vaughn asked.
“Yeah. If we can discover where their printer and the rest of their crew are, we can stop the press. You remove the boss and the middleman. And learn what you can about anybody else being with them in this venture.”
“Okay, will do. When are you leaving tomorrow?” Vaughn asked.
“After we have breakfast. We’ll get in that afternoon then,” Natalie said.
“Works for me,” Shawn said. “You don’t need me here tonight, do you? I’ll go home, pack a bag, and meet you here tomorrow.”
“Yeah, that sounds good,” Brock said.
Shawn said goodbye, and then the others settled down to look up anything else they could find on their laptops about the counterfeiters.
“We’ll have dinner with you, then head home,” Jillian said to Brock and Natalie. “We’ll keep you posted on what we learn while you’re in Amarillo.”
“Same with us when we get there,” Brock said.
Vaughn was working on his laptop when he leaned back against the couch and nodded. “Hey, Marek’s got a flight to Amarillo tomorrow. He arrives there at three thirty.”
“Hell, that’s good news. We’ll be sure to be there then,” Brock said. “Shawn can meet up with the Silvertons either at their house or at the nursery.”
“Are we going to confront Marek at the airport?” Natalie asked.
“No. We’re going to conduct surveillance. Low profile. We’ll see if he goes home or if he drops by the place where they’re printing the money. Even if he really does plan to lead a straight life from now on, we need to find the printer and anything else they’re using to make the money.”