Uncharted Waters

by Rosemary McCracken

  “I wanted to meet you.”

  “You and Gabe were worried when I took over Dean’s business.”

  “You won’t have it for long,” Becca said. “No one will come to you for financial advice when they hear you were skimming client accounts at Norris Cassidy.”

  I moved toward her with clenched fists. “That’s a lie.”

  Ilona stood up. “Time to go, Pat. We’ll be late.”

  Her words grounded me. I had to fight this woman with my wits, not my fists. I let my hands fall to my sides, and followed Ilona.

  At the door, I turned to face Becca again. “Leave Sam alone. You and Gabe have done her enough harm.”

  I paused. “And I’ll be mailing you my invoice for our meeting last week.”

  ***

  “Let it go,” Ilona said when we were back in the Audi. “They have nothing to gain by harming your business or your reputation.”

  I slumped down in the seat beside her. “It shows how far Lukas’s story has traveled.”

  “Are you going to check on Samantha?”

  I shook my head. “She got out of there intact. But the less she sees of her sister and her husband, the better.”

  “Back to what we were talking about earlier. You don’t have enough to shut the Quincys down. But you want to.”

  Financial crooks deserve to have the book thrown at them, especially the ones who prey on ordinary folk. It would be simple justice if these swindlers were put behind bars for the rest of their lives.

  “Of course, I want to,” I said, “but I don’t have enough to go on.”

  “Riza wanted to check out Dean’s racket. So what did she do?”

  “She brought in her niece, Mindy.”

  “That’s right.”

  “You’re saying we should get Mindy to help us? Not a good idea,” I said. “Dean probably told his associates about her.”

  “Is there someone else who could contact the Quincys? Someone they wouldn’t know? Perhaps about a home-equity loan. That’s what Mindy asked Dean about.”

  “I’ll give it some thought,” I said.

  Ilona was meeting clients that evening, so I flagged down a cab outside her office building. On the ride home, I stared bleakly out the window. It had started to rain, and the dismal weather matched my mood. My nightmare wasn’t over. Lukas’s lies had reached Becca, which had me really worried. Becca had let her husband use her sister to work his scam at the hospital. Despite what Ilona had said about the Quincys having nothing to gain by harming my business, I knew that Becca wouldn’t hesitate to use Lukas’s story if it would help Gabe in any way.

  What puzzled me was where Becca had heard Lukas’s story. Then I remembered that Becca was selling Ben’s home. She may have heard it from him, and I only had myself to blame for that. I’d told Ben all about it over lunch in Blairhampton.

  ***

  I was halfway up my front walk when a horn tooted. I turned, thinking that I’d forgotten something in the taxi.

  Ben’s silver Lincoln was parked where the cab had dropped me off. Ben opened his door and got out. “Home at last,” he said, a big smile on his face.

  I wondered if this could be considered stalking.

  “I rang your home phone a few minutes ago,” he said, leaning over the car roof. “Nobody picked up, so it looks as though no one’s at home. It’s probably a good night to have dinner with me.”

  He was right. No one was at home, except Maxie. Kyle and Laura were eating out with friends, and Tommy was at his friend Jake’s house. And the idea of dining at a restaurant was much more appealing than fixing dinner for myself.

  But I reminded myself that Becca was Ben’s real-estate agent, and he might be working the Quincys’ scam with them.

  “What would you like to eat?” he asked. “Seafood, Italian…Name your preference.” He walked around the car and opened the passenger door.

  I gave him a smile. “Not tonight, I’m afraid. I’m meeting a friend in a half hour.”

  “Another time, then.” He locked eyes with mine. “Because there will be another time.”

  ***

  The telephone rang as I was heating up a dinner of leftovers. It was Mindy, and she sounded scared. “I hope I’m not interrupting dinner,” she said.

  I told her she wasn’t, and she went on. “Someone by the name of Rebecca Reiss called me this morning, said she had worked with Dean Monaghan. He told her I wanted to take out a loan against my home and open an investment account. She said she’d help me do that. Is Rebecca someone in your office?”

  Becca was using her maiden name. “I know who she is,” I told Mindy, “but she certainly doesn’t work with me. She didn’t work with Dean, either.”

  “I had a feeling she didn’t,” Mindy continued. “I told her I wasn’t interested in taking money out of my home. But she just called again, putting on the pressure this time. She wanted to come over here.”

  “Don’t answer your door.”

  “I said I had dinner guests, and I hung up.”

  “Dean was a fee-only advisor,” I said. “He would have told you how to get a home-equity loan, but he wouldn’t—or at least he shouldn’t—have got you the loan. He would have designed an investment portfolio for you, but you would have had to go to a broker to purchase your investments. I work that way, as well.”

  “Why did Riza send me to him?” Mindy’s voice was sharp.

  I chose my words carefully. “She may have discovered that Dean was involved in some financial irregularities.”

  Mindy gave a bitter laugh. “She used me to get information.”

  “Maybe,” I said.

  She paused for a few moments. “Pat, my aunt wasn’t a saint. She was involved in some pretty dodgy stuff, but she was my aunt and she was good to me. I think you know what she was trying to find out from Dean. It must have been something pretty bad, because it got her killed.”

  “I’m sorry, Mindy. I don’t know.”

  “Well, thanks to my dear aunt, I’m now a mark for a con artist. When Rebecca calls again, I’m going to find out exactly what’s she’s up to.”

  That was the last thing Mindy should do. I took a deep breath and said, “Rebecca, her husband Gabe Quincy and Dean may have been operating a scam that involved tapping the equity in people’s homes. Riza had caught on to it, and she probably had you ask Dean about taking out a loan against your home to find out what he would tell you.”

  “Then Dean was killed by his partners.”

  “Possibly.”

  “And they wanted my aunt out of the way because she knew what they were up to.”

  “Could be. Mindy, the Quincys are dangerous. You need to steer clear of them.”

  “It’s too late. Rebecca will call me back.”

  I couldn’t let her deal with Becca on her own. “If she calls you today, tell her you’re busy with work, but ask for a phone number where you can reach her. And don’t let anyone you don’t know into your home.”

  “Pat, I’ve been thinking about what you suggested, about becoming your client. I’ve decided that’s what I’m going to do. Could I tell Becca that you’re my financial advisor? That I need to discuss anything involving money with you?”

  “Certainly.” I was pleased that Mindy had decided to work with me, and I intended to follow up on it. But I had something to attend to first. Becca’s interest in Mindy had given me an idea.

  “Could I come by your home tomorrow morning?” I asked.

  “Sure. What time?”

  “Around 10. I’ll call when I’m on your street. In the meantime, don’t answer your door.”

  After we’d disconnected, I felt uneasy. I wondered if the plan that was taking shape in my mind would put Mindy in danger. But I reminded myself that Becca had already targeted her. Mindy was already in the game.

  And this might be my only chance to nail the Quincys.

  Chapter Thirty-six

  I called Mindy when I pulled up in front of her house the next m
orning. “I’m outside,” I said.

  “I’ll open up.”

  She was waiting for me at the front door. “Rebecca called again last night,” she said when I was inside the house. “I told her I was holding a meeting. I said I’d call her back today, and she gave me her number.”

  “It’s good that you have her number. You told her that I’m your financial advisor?”

  “I did, but she didn’t seem to think that was important. Maybe because fee-only advisors don’t get loans for their clients—or manage their investments.”

  I followed her to the sofa that faced the back lawn. “I’ll give you some background,” I said as she poured us coffee.

  I sipped from the mug she handed me, then launched into an overview of home-equity scams. I didn’t do nearly as good a job as Ilona would have, but Mindy looked appalled when I was finished. “I had no idea people like this were out there,” she said. “My home is the only valuable thing I own, and it’s wide-open to thieves like these.”

  “We need to shut those bastards down,” I said.

  Mindy nodded. “You want me to set up a meeting with Rebecca.”

  I gave her a smile. “Are you up to it?”

  She picked up a cell phone from the coffee table. “I bought this prepaid phone last night. What should I say to her?”

  “Tell her you’ll meet her at a coffee shop or a restaurant. Not in this neighborhood.”

  I moved closer as she punched a number into the phone. Moments went by. “Not answering,” Mindy whispered. Then she held up the phone. I heard a woman’s voice instructing her to leave her name, her number, and a brief message.

  I waved my hands to signal no.

  She ended the connection. “Now what?”

  “Try her later. Let me know where and when you’ll meet.”

  ***

  I pulled into the last space in a busy Annex parking lot and sprinted over to my office building. One look at Sam at the reception desk brought me to a full stop. She was holding an ice pack to the side of her face.

  “Have you seen a doctor?” I asked.

  She ducked her head. “Looks worse than it is.” She handed me a slip of paper. “Mindy called five minutes ago. She said she’d left you a voice-mail message. She asked me to make sure you got it.”

  I had just come from Mindy’s home. “Did she say what she wanted?”

  “No, she didn’t.” Sam got up from her desk and perched on the window ledge. “You’re planning something. Something to do with Gabe and Becca…and Dean. I know Gabe and Becca are running a con. Cons are what Gabe does, and Becca does whatever he wants. But I thought Dean was…” Her face fell. “He was good to a lot of people.”

  And he was another person who had let her down. I felt her pain. “I’m sorry,” I said.

  She stood up. “I want to help.”

  “Help with what?”

  “C’mon, Pat. You’re trying to take down Becca and Gabe, and you should. What they’re doing is wrong. So, what can I do to help?”

  “What do you think Becca and Gabe are doing?”

  “They’re going after homeowners, trying to get their hands on the money in their houses and condos.”

  “What gives you that idea?”

  “Things I heard around the office, although they didn’t make much sense at the time. And on Sunday, my sister was trying to get our parents to take out a loan against their home.”

  “She was?”

  Sam nodded. “Yup.”

  Becca was trying to con her own parents.

  “Mom and Dad have already taken out one loan—to pay my fine,” Sam continued. “I reminded Becca about that, but she shrugged it off.”

  “Have your parents agreed to the loan?”

  “Not yet, but Becca will probably try again this weekend. So, what can I do?”

  I didn’t want Sam involved in a plan to set up her sister and her husband. She didn’t need that on her conscience. “We’ll talk about this later,” I said. “Right now, you should see a doctor. You took a blow to the head.”

  “It’s just a bruise. Hey, I’m sorry about rushing out of Becca’s office yesterday.”

  “I understand.”

  At my desk, I listened to Mindy’s message. “Rebecca just called,” she said. “She’s on her way over here. I told her that I was busy, but I could meet her for lunch at one o’clock. She wouldn’t listen. She wants to see me now.”

  I tried Mindy’s cell. She wasn’t picking up; same story with her landline. I left her a message, asking her to get back to me.

  Sam came to my door. “I’ve got an idea. We can set up something with my parents. Have them call Becca about taking out a loan on their house—”

  “No! We will not involve your parents.” It was out of the question for a couple who were nearing retirement to even think about putting their home at risk. And they didn’t need to know their daughter was trying to swindle them.

  “We won’t let them take out a loan,” Sam said. “We’ll just go through the motions.”

  “No!”

  She crept out of my office.

  My phone rang a few minutes later.

  “Pat, she’s at my door.”

  I barely recognized the frightened voice at the other end of the line. “Mindy?”

  “Yes. Rebecca is outside with some guy. Did you get the voice mail I left?”

  “I did, and I’m on my way over.” I grabbed by handbag and ran to the door. This wasn’t turning into the meeting between Mindy and Becca that I’d hoped for.

  “Reschedule my 1:30,” I said to Sam.

  She pulled her handbag from a desk drawer. “You’re up to something that involves Becca. I’m coming with you.”

  “No! I need you to reschedule Raymond Saunders. He’ll be here at 1:30.”

  “I’ll call him from your car,” she said, shrugging her arms into her jacket.

  The fire in her eyes told me she wouldn’t be put off. “Okay,” I said. “We’re going to Etobicoke. Let’s get moving.”

  She set the security alarm. I locked the door behind us, and we raced down the stairs.

  ***

  Sam reached Raymond Saunders as we were speeding along the Gardiner Expressway, and moved his appointment to the following morning. Then she told her supervisor at Daycrest she wouldn’t be in that afternoon. “If I weren’t a volunteer, I’d have been fired by now,” she said after she’d disconnected.

  “Dean must’ve told Gabe and Becca that Mindy asked him about taking out a loan against her home,” I said.

  Sam whistled softly. “So Becca’s over there putting the screws to Mindy.”

  “Becca didn’t come alone,” I said. “Mindy said there’s a guy with her.”

  “Must be Gabe,” Sam said.

  I considered having Sam call the police, but it wasn’t against the law for Becca and Gabe to drop in on Mindy.

  “Mindy told Becca that I’m her financial advisor,” I said, “but that didn’t make Becca back off as I’d hoped it would.”

  I turned onto Mindy’s street, and parked three houses down from her home. “Head to the back of the house. I’ll go to the front door,” I said to Sam while we were still in the car. “There are doors that open onto the back lawn. I’ll open them if we need you.”

  I called Mindy’s cell, then her landline. She wasn’t answering.

  “Not picking up?” Sam asked.

  I shook my head. “Let’s go.”

  Sam took the walkway along the side of the building. I went up to the front door and rang the doorbell. Chimes sounded inside the house. I punched Mindy’s landline number into my cell. A telephone rang inside the house, but nobody picked up.

  I went around to the back. “Mindy’s not answering the door,” I said to Sam.

  “Strange. She knew you were coming over.” She grabbed a door handle. It turned, and she pulled the door open. “And she left without locking up. Should we go in?”

  I made a quick decision. “Yes.”
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  Directly inside was the brown leather sofa I’d sat on earlier that morning. Its colorful pillows were on the floor. Did that mean there’d been a scuffle?

  Mindy’s design work appeared undisturbed. A tray on the kitchen counter held a coffee carafe and the two mugs we’d used that morning. She hadn’t had time to wash up after I’d left.

  “The front door is locked,” Sam called out. “Maybe she forgot to lock the patio doors.”

  I joined her at the front door. “I think Mindy left the back unlocked on purpose. Becca was outside this door when Mindy called me.”

  Sam’s face was a mask of worry. “Becca and Gabe forced her go with them. She hoped you’d try to get in when nobody answered the doorbell. She may have left you a message.”

  I went into Mindy’s bedroom. The bed was neatly made; the top of the dresser was tidy. I opened the closet, and pushed aside the clothing on hangers. A rack of shoes was the only thing at the back of the closet.

  “Take a look at this!” Sam called out from the bathroom.

  I joined her in the bathroom. “Help! Reb…” was scrawled in red lipstick on the white tiles above the bathtub.

  “Mindy took a chance that Becca and Gabe wouldn’t come in here,” Sam said. “And, just in case, she pulled the shower curtain over the tub.”

  “I wonder if she took her cell.” I punched Mindy’s number into my phone again. This time, the call went directly to voice mail. “Her phone’s turned off.”

  Mindy was in trouble. I was sure of that. “We have to call the police,” I said.

  Hardy wasn’t picking up. I left him a message, then tried 911. I was told that officers would arrive within 10 minutes.

  A few minutes later, a gray-and-white Toronto Police Service vehicle pulled up in front of the house. Sam and I introduced ourselves to a young uniformed male officer and an even-younger woman. We showed them the message in the bathroom and the unlocked patio door.

  “Neither of you lives here?” asked Constable Burrows, the male officer.