Twisted Lies

by Robin Patchen

  Nate prompted, "But Vinnie...?"

  Charles looked up. "I loved Vinnie. I taught him the business and helped him succeed. I never should have gotten him involved in the other stuff. Because Vinnie would have done anything I asked of him. He was desperate for somebody to tell him he mattered."

  Charles wiped a tear. "He did matter. He trusted me, and I betrayed him."

  "He was about to betray you."

  "My fault," Charles said.

  Of all scenarios Nate had prepared for on his drive down that morning, this one had never crossed his mind. "Did you have some sort of religious experience in here?"

  Charles nodded. "You could say that, yeah. I can never undo what I did, but I'm sorry for it. I wish I could tell the girl that. I ruined a lot of lives, but what I did to Vinnie, to her—that still plagues me."

  Nate wasn't sure if Charles was sincere or just a great actor. "If that's true, I might be able to help you get some redemption."

  "Only God can offer redemption, but I'll do whatever I can."

  It was unsettling how much the murdering felon suddenly sounded like Nate's father and step-mom. "After Marisa fled for her life, she ended up working in an orphanage in...a foreign country. A baby girl was left there, and Marisa fell in love. She adopted the girl."

  "Good for her."

  "That was four years ago. She stayed hidden and made a life for herself there. Three days ago, that little girl was kidnapped, along with Marisa's sister."

  "Leslie?"

  Charles remembered the cleaning lady's name? After everything that had happened? Nate made a note of that. "Leslie and Ana were snatched from a shopping center, and Marisa was given an ultimatum. Return the money stolen from you"—Nate nodded to Charles—"or her daughter and sister die."

  Charles leaned forward. "Why doesn't she just return the money? Surely she hasn't spent it all. Unless she was living like a princess—"

  "She doesn't have it."

  "Bad investments?"

  "Charles, she didn't steal your money."

  He blinked, tilted his head to the side. "Of course she did. Nobody else could have done it."

  "I'm here because I hoped you'd have some idea of who else might've stolen it."

  Charles opened his mouth, snapped it shut. "But, if she didn't steal it, why did she run?"

  "Weren't you going to kill her?"

  "I just wanted my money back."

  "She didn't steal your money."

  "But nobody else—"

  "We're talking in circles, Charles. It's irrelevant what you thought."

  "Cops thought it, too."

  "They were wrong. Marisa didn't take your money. She ran because she was afraid for her life, and because the feds thought she was guilty. She ran because she felt she had no other options. Frankly, I agreed with her on that."

  "You helped her?"

  "Just kept her hidden until she could make a plan. And gave her some traveling money."

  Charles cleared his throat. "You're sure she doesn't have it?"

  "They took her daughter. Don't you think she'd give them the money to get the girl back?"

  "Maybe she likes the money—"

  "I saw where she's been living. Trust me, she doesn't have it."

  He took a long breath. "What do you want from me?"

  "How did you find out Vinnie was planning to cooperate with the FBI?"

  Charles's gaze settled on the wall behind Nate. "I guess it doesn't matter now. I was careful to keep quiet before, because she begged me, but..."

  Nate waited, fairly certain what he was about to hear.

  "Leslie told me she'd overheard Vinnie telling his girlfriend about the stuff he'd been doing, the system we'd been working."

  "Leslie knew about the fraud?" Nate clarified.

  Charles shook his head. "No details. I think Leslie just... G&K was her first sizable contract, and she wanted to keep in my good graces. And I think she didn't want her sister to marry Vinnie, though I always believed they made a good match, and Marisa was loyal to him."

  Nate's next words faltered as he considered that phrase. "What do you mean, Marisa was loyal?"

  Charles shifted in the chair, focus downward. "Just that there were a lot of guys up there who'd have, you know, liked to get to know Marisa better. She's, you know." He looked back up. "She's gorgeous. Guys with a lot of money and influence made her a lot of offers. But she never strayed from Vinnie."

  The information didn't surprise Nate. "Leslie told you Vinnie was considering going to the FBI?"

  "She didn't know for sure. She said she overheard him say something about the FBI, but she didn't know exactly what he'd said. Anyway, I—"

  "Just a second." Nate needed to process that. Maybe Leslie had had a bigger role to play in what had happened eight years earlier than Nate and Marisa had ever comprehended. "Sorry. Go on."

  "Everything okay?"

  Nate nodded. "You thought Vinnie was considering going to the FBI—"

  "I wasn't sure what Leslie had heard, but the FBI's involvement—that scared me. On the other hand, Vinnie had always been loyal to me. I wasn't sure I even believed her. I figured he'd just confessed what he'd been doing to his girlfriend. That's what I'd hoped, anyway." Charles took off his glasses and cleaned them on his drab shirt.

  He kept his gaze downward when he continued. "I hired Buckley to scare him into keeping quiet. He wasn't supposed to kill him."

  "That's not what Buck says."

  Charles looked up, met Nate's eyes. "He got a reduced sentence for turning against me. But he knows." Charles nodded and looked at the wall. "He knows."

  "You have no idea who else could have stolen the money."

  "I didn't tell anybody. I figured I could keep it quiet, protect Vinnie—"

  "Protect him?"

  "From Anderson."

  "Russell Anderson?"

  "Right. He'd taken over the operation at that point. Another smart guy from the wrong side of the tracks, but unlike Vinnie, Anderson hadn't always kept his nose clean. He'd been in some scrapes as a young guy. He was a little rough around the edges and still had contacts with... He's the one who introduced me to Buck."

  "You told him Vinnie had confessed?"

  "No, no. Just that I needed someone to do me an unpleasant favor. I gave him the impression it was a family matter. I didn't want Anderson anywhere near this. I didn't know what he'd do. I was trying to protect Vinnie."

  Protect him? That seemed a stretch, considering Vinnie ended up dead.

  "But maybe Buck told Anderson who he was really after," Nate said. "Maybe Anderson convinced Buck to kill him. Or, after the fact when Vinnie turned up dead, maybe Anderson put two-and-two together. Maybe Anderson's got the money."

  Charles seemed to consider that. "I never have figured out how Marisa"—he nodded toward Nate, possibly in deference to Nate's opinion—"or whoever it was got access to my personal account. The business account, maybe. But mine? Made no sense."

  "But somebody did. Anderson had access to the building, and he might've known something was going on."

  Charles shrugged. "Maybe. I don't know anymore."

  Okay, so maybe Anderson knew more than Charles gave him credit for. It was something.

  "Your wife," Nate said. "She had had access to your bank account, right?"

  "But why would she steal from me?"

  "You still married to her?"

  Charles's smile was sad. "She divorced me when I was convicted. Said she couldn't fathom visiting a place like this. I don't blame her. This isn't what she signed up for."

  So much for for better or for worse.

  "Maybe she got wind something was happening at your firm, and she took the money to safeguard it."

  "My money, maybe. But the firm's? Why would she destroy the very company that financed her lifestyle?"

  "If she knew what was going on—"

  "She didn't."

  "You didn't confide in her."

  Charles looked at t
he table. When he looked back up, his eyes were sadder. "I was not a good husband. There were a lot of other women. My wife and I hadn't been close in a long time."

  "Maybe she figured out about the other women—"

  "She always knew," Charles said. "Didn't seem to care, as long as the money kept coming in."

  "Let me just confirm. The kidnappers are asking for two million. Is that what was in your personal account?"

  He looked toward the ceiling, paused a moment, and met Nate's eyes. "You have to understand, I knew something was up. I was planning to transfer it offshore first thing the next morning, try to shield it. So I gathered as much as I could, to protect it. Yes, it was about two million."

  "But if your wife took the money in your personal account—and everything in the business's—she wouldn't need you anymore."

  "Wasn't just the money. Being associated with me made her part of the top echelon of New York society."

  "Not after you were arrested."

  "But she can't have known that was going down."

  "Okay." Nate made a mental note to check out Charles's ex-wife. "These other women... Did you confide in any of them?"

  "Not everything, but I was pretty serious with a woman at the time. I was in love with her." He rolled his eyes. Nate wasn't sure if Charles considered himself a fool for falling for this woman, or if he thought love itself was foolish. "I was trying to figure out how to extricate myself from my marriage without making an enemy of my wife. Jessica was far too young for me, but she cared for me."

  "Jessica what?"

  Charles paused, seemed to weigh the pros and cons of answer. "English. Jessica English."

  "You no longer believe she cared for you?"

  "The fact that she's never come to visit tells me something."

  "This is a pretty scary place, Charles. Maybe she's afraid. Maybe she has no idea how to handle it."

  "She never answered when I called, either."

  "Oh." How could Nate actually feel sorry for this guy? "Did she know what you were up to?"

  "I told her a little bit. It's been a long time, though. I don't remember exactly how much."

  "Do you think she might've had something to do with the money being stolen?"

  Charles was shaking his head before Nate finished the question. "She'd never set foot in G&K's offices. She wouldn't have the foggiest idea how to go about something like that."

  "Maybe she met somebody who did."

  "I told her I was worried about Vinnie, but she didn't know there was anything illegal going on. I can't see how she could have been involved in any of it."

  Nate wasn't convinced, but he didn't argue with the guy. He stood. "Thank you for your time. If I have any more questions, is it okay if I come back?"

  Charles stood, too, and shook his hand. "Anytime. Not like I have anything better to do. You're in contact with Marisa Vega?"

  Nate nodded.

  "Tell her I'm sorry. Tell her... I know it's nothing, but I'm sorry for all I did to her. I wish I could do more to help."

  Strangest thing was, Nate believed him.

  NATE STEPPED INTO THE Dunkin' Donuts to see Marisa and Garrison huddled together on a bench with their backs to the window. Two half-empty cups sat on the table in front of them. They watched something on Garrison's cell phone and laughed.

  The sight of her laughing warmed him.

  She looked up and smiled.

  He crossed the room. "What's so funny?"

  "Could you hear us from there?" She nudged Garrison in the shoulder, and he moved to the chair across from her. "Garrison was showing me some funny videos."

  Garrison lifted his smartphone. "We have access to all the information known to man on these phones..."

  "And we use them to watch cat videos." Marisa laughed, and Garrison joined her.

  Nate chuckled with them. "Did you two eat?"

  "A while ago," Garrison said. "Grab something, and you can tell us how it went."

  He ordered a bagel sandwich and returned to the table, where he slid into the booth beside Marisa.

  "Well?" she prompted.

  "A few possibilities. First, Charles wanted me to tell you how sorry he is." He relayed Charles's insistence that he'd never wanted Vinnie to die, and that he'd never had any intention of hurting her. "He just wanted his money back and thought you had it."

  "Right," Garrison said. "Every guy in Sing Sing is innocent."

  Between bites of his sandwich, Nate flipped through his notebook. He'd written down everything he could remember from the conversation as soon as he'd gotten to his truck. Now, he detailed the information Charles had given him. He left out the part about Leslie. Marisa knew, but Nate had a niggling idea that there was more to the story than they'd uncovered yet. He needed more information before he shared that. He'd tell Garrison in private later, see what the cop thought.

  When he'd finished the report and his lunch, he said, "I think we should go see Anderson." He looked at Garrison. "You said you know where he works?"

  Garrison took his thick file from the chair beside him. "I have it in here somewhere. But I don't think he stole the money."

  "But if we can figure out who kidnapped Leslie and Ana," Marisa said, "maybe we can find them."

  Her expression looked hopeful. Nate nodded. Whatever it took to keep that look on her face.

  "It's been three days," Marisa said. "Why haven't they called back?"

  Nate glanced at Garrison, who was still flipping through his file. "It's a good question."

  "Maybe something terrible has happened." Her expression faded back to the look of terror she'd worn so often since the kidnapping.

  Nate scooted closer and took her hand. "There's no reason to believe that."

  "But why wouldn't they call back?"

  Garrison looked up from his file. "They gave you a week."

  "Still..."

  Garrison nodded slowly. "Nobody knew you'd adopted Ana until Nate and Leslie got to Mexico, right?"

  "She didn't tell us until we got there," Nate said.

  Garrison looked back at Marisa. "So let's say these guys followed Nate and Leslie to Acapulco. I'm not sure how that happened, but it seems it did. Otherwise, they wouldn't know about your daughter. They see the girl, they see their opportunity, and they come up with a plan. They snatch Leslie and Ana. Then they call you and say they'll be in the States."

  "Why wouldn't they just take me?" Marisa asked. "Ana and Leslie are innocent."

  Nate had no answer. He looked at Garrison, who shrugged. "Maybe they thought you'd need to be free to get to the money. Maybe they didn't want to take on Nate."

  That answer didn't satisfy Nate, but he didn't have a better one. Marisa didn't look convinced, either.

  "Why do you think they wanted to return to the States?"

  Garrison shook his head. "Because they're idiots. If you're going to kidnap someone, Mexico is a far better place to do it. Happens there all the time. The authorities don't have nearly enough resources to follow up on every disappearance."

  "Exactly," Marisa said. "So why?"

  Garrison shrugged. "They're not very smart. They didn't feel comfortable there, so they wanted to come home. The guy on the phone was American, right?"

  "Sounded like a New Yorker. But the guy who grabbed me was Mexican."

  "Probably a hired gun. The guys in charge are American. Whoever they are, they're arrogant and think they won't get caught. In any event," Garrison continued, "they put their plan together on the fly. They can't have had forged papers before they snatched Leslie and Ana, because they'd need good photographs. Did Leslie have her passport on her?"

  "No." Marisa looked at Nate to confirm, and he nodded. "We found it in her stuff at the hotel."

  "If the kidnappers planned to fly out of Mexico, they'd need to have gotten papers to do it. That would take time."

  "Good point," Nate said. "How long would that take?"

  "Maybe their Mexican accomplice could have gotten them pape
rs to fly out. But they couldn't guarantee that you wouldn't go straight to the cops." Garrison leveled a gaze at Nate. "Which you should have."

  Marisa said, "But they told us—"

  "I know what they told you. Still, that would have been the right play. Because if you had, the authorities would have looked for them at the borders. If they were coming back to the States, they had to leave from somewhere and go in somewhere else. All those somewheres are crawling with cops."

  Good logic. Nate wished he'd thought of it.

  "My guess," Garrison continued, "was that they didn't want to risk all that. They found another way into the country. Either they drove and smuggled Leslie and Ana through, or they headed to the Gulf and secured passage on a ship."

  "That makes sense," Marisa said. "How long would that take?"

  Garrison shrugged. "Days. If I were you, I wouldn't worry. They're probably still traveling."

  Nate studied Garrison's expression. He couldn't tell if the guy really believed it, or if he'd just wanted to make Marisa feel better. Either way, she seemed relieved, which left Nate thankful for the FBI agent.

  NATE AND GARRISON LEFT Marisa in the pickup a few streets over from the auto body shop where Russell Anderson worked. She'd argued that she wanted to go with them, but Nate adamantly refused to take her to visit the former G&K employee. Even if Anderson'd had nothing to do with the kidnapping or the stolen money, there was a good chance he blamed Marisa for what had become of his life. No point in subjecting her to that.

  When Garrison took Nate's side, Marisa agreed to hang back.

  After the first block, Garrison said, "What'd you leave out?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "There was something else you learned from Charles Gray, right? Something you didn't want to tell Marisa?"

  Nate glanced at the man beside him. "How did you know?"

  Garrison shrugged "Instinct, maybe."

  Instinct indeed.

  "Well?"

  Nate told Garrison what Charles had said about Leslie.

  "Marisa's theory is correct," Garrison said. "Leslie set the whole thing in motion."

  "The question is, why?"

  "Any guesses?"

  He thought about the woman he'd spent so much time with. "Leslie's a bit of an enigma. She's rough around the edges, very argumentative. She admitted she'd always been jealous of her sister. But she seemed legitimately sorry for that now. I didn't get the impression that she'd want to hurt her, but then I didn't know her back then. Maybe she was trying to protect Marisa from Vinnie, from marrying someone involved in that kind of thing."