Movie Mogul Mama

by Connie Shelton

  “I can’t handle it,” she said, once the group had assembled. “All those texts this afternoon—my mother. She’s been given thirty days to get her loans up to date or leave her house, and guess where she’s planning to come.”

  “Here?” Amber’s voice squeaked as she said it. Everyone else’s eyes were wide.

  “Four more people. Shifting bedrooms, we might figure out, but it’s also taking on all their problems and their drama. Mom will lose the social life and shopping that makes up her day. She’ll be joining me to do everything. Hannah’s kids were quiet enough when you saw them, but that’s not the real story. They pick at each other and fight all day, and they aren’t in school yet—they need constant entertainment. I tell you, I’ll go insane.”

  She’d heated the kettle for tea, but her hand shook so badly she had to set it down.

  “And you know what Scott said when I told him? ‘You’re having a real crisis moment, aren’t you, honey?’ Well, yeah. Aside from something dire happening to my kids, I can’t think of much worse. Mom and I, we come from different planets. Half a day is our max time together.”

  Pen took over the teakettle. “All right, we must keep our heads. How much money was it?”

  Gracie named a figure that put Mary, Amber, and Sandy completely out of the running as far as offering some help. “Scott and I have already borrowed to help her once. We just can’t do it again. Things are tight.”

  Pen looked thoughtful. “I don’t have it in ready cash, of course, but dipping into my retirement funds is certainly an option.”

  “Pen! You will not. This is my mother’s problem—and okay, it may soon be mine too—but it’s not up to you to bail her out.”

  Sandy put an arm around Gracie’s shoulders. “Let’s take this a step at a time. We’re still working on getting the money back from Rob Williams. Trying to be logical about this, I’m thinking he’s hoarded it somewhere. He was about to purchase a villa in France, and we don’t think that happened. So it means the money is still in his name.”

  “And we’ll find it,” Amber said, her chipper, upbeat voice trying to lighten the mood.

  “That’s right.” Sandy went on to tell the others about the banking codes she and Amber had discovered on Rob’s fund transfers. “I haven’t had time to track them down yet, but I will get on it first thing tomorrow. The basic information will be easy to gather from our internal system at the bank. Once we know which banks he’s using, it should be easier for Amber to work her magic.”

  Amber preened a little.

  “I can’t believe I’m saying this.” Sandy put a hand to her forehead. “It can never, never be known at the bank that I have anything to do with hacking someone’s account.”

  “Trust me,” Amber said. “Your name will never show up on anything. How can it? I’m the one performing the searches. And we haven’t actually talked about taking any money from these accounts of his. We just want to know where it is, turn the knowledge over to the law, right?”

  And look how well that worked out last time. No one said it, but they all had the same thought.

  “Along those lines, Amber and I did discover something interesting this afternoon.” Sandy told the others about the twenty thousand dollar transfer and cash payment to Rob’s attorney, along with her reasons for believing the judge might have been the one to end up with it.

  “How will we ever prove it?” Pen asked.

  “Amber suggested setting a trap. Clever, but I can’t imagine how.”

  “I’ve had some other thoughts,” Amber said. “Let me work on it a bit.”

  Mary spoke up. “Meanwhile, I think we need to find someone higher up within the law. Even if we managed to get money back for the victims—by whatever means—Rob Williams needs to answer for his actions, and if a judge was bribed to let him off, well, we really want to be sure that comes out.”

  “Working another bit of the puzzle,” Pen said, “I called my Hollywood agent to ask about Rob’s contacts with the famous actors he claimed to star in his films. The agent has never heard of Rob Williams. She offered to look up Intrepid Dog Pictures, in case Rob is merely a silent partner, and said she would get back to me with any news. We shouldn’t hold our breaths. I got the distinct impression this agent would have known if Brad Pitt or George Clooney had worked for him.”

  The lines around Gracie’s mouth had relaxed. “Okay, so Amber’s tracking money movement, Mary will look into the judge’s actions, and Pen is checking Rob’s Hollywood connections. I think I also mentioned that before I turned over all those business cards with various investors’ names to the California police, I photocopied them. I could be compiling the list, calling some of the people … it might lead somewhere.”

  “Great idea,” Sandy said. She looked closely at Gracie. “I hope this helps. I feel certain that we’ll come up with the answers and be able to get your mother’s money back. Do you feel a little less like killing someone now?”

  Gracie laughed. “Yeah, I guess it’s safe for Scott and the kids to come home tonight.”

  The women finished their tea and said goodnight. Having definite plans, and Sandy’s words of encouragement, had helped. But, could they wrap it up and get the money in a short thirty days?

  Chapter 43

  He hadn’t been out of his house in three days. The dream, in which Tyler warned him, had kept him awake that night. Midway through the next day he dozed on the couch again, and another dream caused him to thrash around so badly he fell off and hit his head on the coffee table. Same song, second verse—someone would hunt him down.

  Sandy had texted him twice and left three voice messages. Where was the money for the Royale? They were hounding her and Rob needed to pay the balance he owed. Was this what the dreams were telling him, or was it someone else tracking him down?

  In his dreams that night, bad guys were lurking outside his office. One approached and asked where the money was, shoving a gun into Rob’s gut as he uttered the threat. Rob woke from that one in a sweat and couldn’t fall back to sleep the rest of the night.

  Maybe it was the booze.

  He quit drinking but still had the dreams. His eyes would close in exhaustion, but the moment he drifted to sleep someone would be chasing him down the street, or they would corner him in an alley, or he would catch a guy trying to plant a bomb in his vehicle. He let his phone’s battery die so he couldn’t receive messages. One of the days that passed in a blur—he wasn’t sure which—was Christmas Day. He didn’t remember a single detail about it.

  He started drinking again.

  On the fourth day he considered getting a gun but discarded the idea when he considered the background check and mandatory ten-day waiting period. On the fifth day he was glad he didn’t own a gun because he would have drawn it when the doorbell rang. Peeking out the window he saw it was the FedEx driver with a flat envelope in hand. He opened the door a crack and the driver informed him the delivery required a signature.

  The guy gave him a funny look when he reached one hand out to sign for it and to snatch the package. Rob didn’t care. He knew what he looked like—unshaven, greasy hair, wearing sweats that hadn’t been laundered in a week. There were probably homeless people in the city who looked better than he did. He snarled at the driver and closed the door, turning the deadbolt with a click.

  The package had a return address he didn’t recognize and contained two sheets of paper, an invoice from the Royale and a letter. Sandy had tracked him down.

  He wadded up the invoice without looking at it and tossed it into the trash. No way was he paying that thing—let them come find him. The letter nearly followed, but he glanced at it.

  Dear Rob, I hope everything is all right. I’ve been so worried because my messages aren’t going through and I haven’t been able to reach you by phone …

  The kind words were the last thing he’d expected to hear. He sank to a stool at the bar and started crying.

  Chapter 44

  “I think
I’m wearing him down,” Sandy said.

  The weather had turned cloudy and rainy—Phoenix’s version of winter—and people all over the city had taken to wearing sweaters, hats, and mittens even though it was fifty degrees outside. The Heist Ladies had spent Christmas day together, except for Gracie (for whom the holiday was sacred time with her kids) and Amber (who had flown to Santa Fe to be with her parents).

  Now, a few days later, it was time to get the group together officially for updates. They were seated at a corner table at their favorite lunch place, where soups had been the choice for the chilly day.

  Over her tomato-basil soup and toasted cheese sandwich, Sandy told the group about the FedEx letter she’d sent to Rob in hopes he would reveal some other bank account and authorize her to pay the invoice she’d enclosed. “I put the return mailing address as that of the bank’s post office box, since I’m the one who checks it each day.”

  “And?” Gracie was especially eager.

  “Rob finally called and he sounded awful on the phone. He must have had a terrible head cold, stuffy sinuses and the whole bit. But, long story short, it didn’t work. No money forthcoming.”

  “Did he say anything else?” Mary asked. She ripped a corner from the garlic bread that had come with her minestrone.

  “I asked if he was planning another gala, acted very chipper and eager to help with the planning.” Sandy shook her head. “He’s got nothing on the horizon. I tried to pry information, but he sounded so listless, as if he doesn’t care about anything in the world. I almost felt sorry for him.”

  “Yeah, well, just remember my mother is moving in with me in three weeks if we can’t get that money back. Don’t start feeling too sorry for Rob Williams.” Gracie waved her spoon in the air for emphasis.

  “Sorry,” Sandy said. “I mean … you know what I mean. I certainly don’t pity the man. I just wonder what’s going on with him.”

  “And I do think you should stay in touch with him,” Pen suggested. “We still need information.”

  “Yeah, I’ve hit roadblocks on the banking situation,” Amber said. “I managed to track some of the transfers to other banks, but none of them contain large balances either. It’s as if he’s got the money hidden under the mattress or something.”

  They all exchanged glances. It was true—while inside Rob’s house, no one had thought to literally check under the mattress.

  “Nah—surely not,” Mary finally said.

  “Besides, we were interrupted, if you recall,” Gracie said.

  From the depths of a purse, a cell phone rang. Pen reached for hers, pulled out the phone, and looked at the screen. “Nice—it’s my agent.”

  She took the call, her expression brightened, and she reached into the purse again for pen and paper. A number of short responses, some jotted notes, a profuse thank-you, and she turned back to her friends.

  “This might actually be useful,” she said, dropping the phone back into her bag. “Remember, she previously told me she’d never heard of Robert Williams, but it turns out a few people in the business have got wind of Intrepid Dog Pictures. She took an interest and did a bit of further research. Intrepid has been associated with a Valiant Flame Films, which in turn was listed in an industry directory with one called Gallant Man Films.”

  “Let me see,” Amber said, abandoning her bowl of chili and reaching for Pen’s tiny notebook. She scowled at the written words, trying to remember whether any of them had come up in her research.

  “Wait a second,” Sandy said. “Intrepid, Gallant, Valiant … don’t all those words mean the same thing?”

  “Or nearly so. I hadn’t caught that during the call,” Pen said.

  “What do you think the odds are of three unrelated companies choosing such names?” Mary asked.

  “And the fact that they essentially indicate being fearless, bold, courageous … Doesn’t that sound like such a Rob Williams thing? He really does think those words describe him, doesn’t he?” Sandy was nearly beside herself with excitement. “It’s got to be—all those companies must be related, and Rob Williams has to be behind them all.”

  Amber had picked up the small notebook and was tapping it on the table thoughtfully. “Now, the question is whether we can find the money through those.”

  Sandy appeared the most lost in her thoughts. “I wonder what I can say or do to get the information.”

  “I’d be very cautious. We can’t afford to spook him,” Pen said. The others nodded. “He’s left the country once. He could easily do it again.”

  Chapter 45

  Rob stepped out of the shower, kicking his grubby sweats aside. He found a clean pair in the closet and put those on. His dark suits were already showing a layer of dust on the shoulders. How long since he’d dressed and gone to the office? He couldn’t remember.

  When he’d charged his phone, one of the messages was from the receptionist—Aspen, she said her name was—who whined about not getting a paycheck in two weeks and what did he think she was living on anyway? He deleted the call without waiting for the end. No doubt some kind of deadline for a check or she was quitting. Fine. Let her quit.

  Then he remembered the phone call he’d made to Sandy the day after Christmas. The conversation was kind of a blur—she being all solicitous, he in some kind of mood he’d not felt since his mother died. He hoped he hadn’t become too maudlin. How embarrassing.

  Sandy’s two themes were: when would he pay the invoice for that Scottsdale thing that didn’t happen. Answer: never. And then she wondered if he had another gala in the works and did he need help with the planning. No and no.

  He’d already been thinking about dumping Sandy. She was a lot smarter than Abby had been, even though she lacked the showmanship to handle the crowds and rake in the investors; and there was certainly no question of sex with her. She was like a big sister who showed a guy up with her efficiency.

  Other things bothered him about Sandy—how she knew what Air France flight plans to change, how she got his home address for FedEx, and—strangest of all—why did she come to the courtroom and barely wave hello? He liked efficiency in a PA, but one who practically read his mind and made it her business to check up on him? It kind of creeped him out. On the other hand … he had to admit she’d aced the planning for Scottsdale, and if he ever wanted to hold another event, it would be real handy to have her around.

  His hand lingered over the screen on his phone as he debated calling to fire her. From his contacts list, it was only a click away to the app where his movie trailers were available. He sat on the edge of his bed and went through them. He remembered the thrill of piecing the footage together, taking A-listers and putting their website clips together with stock backgrounds and flashy fonts. So simple with a basic video editing program, and he’d even gotten the ‘announcer voice’ down pretty well too.

  It would be fun to do another.

  It would be a lot of work, and no guarantee the returns would be lucrative. Things could go wrong. Again.

  Tempting, but dangerous. He sighed and shut off the video, went into the bathroom.

  Yeah, the movie investor jig was up. Tyler Chisholm had made it pretty clear, and Rob’s heart wasn’t really in it anymore. He’d been so focused on that villa, on getting away to a place where he could live the lifestyle of the rich and famous without having to work for it.

  The bubble had burst; he’d spent a week feeling sorry for himself. Now it was time to think of his future. He still had a lot of money. The idea improved his mood. A completely fresh start, a beach somewhere, maybe a quiet little town where he could change his name and live anonymously. It was beginning to feel like too many people knew too much about Rob Williams.

  He looked at himself in the mirror, stroking the dark facial hair that was nearly long enough to be trimmed into a decent beard. This could be the perfect time to change his appearance. With his dark hair, he could blend in somewhere to the south. There were places you could cross into Mexico without
showing your passport, weren’t there? The law was only looking for dark-haired people sneaking out of Mexico.

  From there, a whole continent awaited. He ran his fingers through his hair and smiled at himself.

  Chapter 46

  Gracie hung up the phone and gripped both sides of her head. “Mom’s packing. What am I going to do?”

  Sandy looked up from her notes. The two of them had been at Gracie’s dining table all morning, calling those on the list of investors Gracie had compiled from the stolen business cards. So far, the results hadn’t netted much more than anger at Rob Williams and quite a few promises to join in if a lawsuit was filed. Many had broken down in emotional tirades over their personal circumstances, tears over the fact that they could not afford to lose the investment. She wondered if others were in the same position as Janice, moving in with family members as a solution.

  “You could move in with me and let Scott handle your mother?” Sandy suggested it with a wry smile.

  “Tempting as that sounds, I really don’t want to end up divorced. Of course, with Mom in the house, after a week or two that’s still a possibility. I tell you, I’ll go nuts.”

  “Oh, Gracie … I wish I knew what to say.” Sandy indicated the names she’d checked off. “I can’t believe the personal grief this man has caused so many people. Did he truly think everybody who fell for his scheme was only giving away ‘spare’ money? People like him—I believe they only think of themselves.”

  They both remembered Mary’s experience with her ex-husband last year, another example of a man’s single-minded selfishness.

  “Do we have anything to go on?” Gracie asked. She set her phone aside and went to the kitchen to top off her tea mug.