When we separated, I wiped my eyes and apologized. He chuckled. “Nothing to apologize for, mate. It’s been a long, hard road. But it’s over now.”
I smiled and nodded. I really hoped he was right.
We said our goodbyes and agreed to talk soon.
Upstairs, Sara was already sound asleep and snoring. I stood by the side of the bed and watched her sleep, wondering if Christina would haunt her dreams as Carlos had mine. I prayed not. Either way, she would have my love and support, now more than ever, as she dealt with what happened.
The next morning, we ate a quiet breakfast together. She’d slept soundly and didn’t mention any nightmares. She wasn’t quite ready to talk about last night. The kids were at her parents’ house. She had brought them there last night, which she admitted was a terrible idea. Then she went to Ingo’s. She knew she made some poor choices, but all she could think about was getting back to me. And how could I not love her even more for that?
Before we sat down to eat, we called the boys. They were having a blast in their grandparents’ pool. According to Sara’s mom, Jordan had eaten his body weight in food and Brock was doing front-flips off the diving board. They were both as happy as could be.
Sara didn’t eat much, and I didn’t badger her about it. It would have surprised me if she had. She called in sick to work. All she wanted to do was sleep and read. That was fine by me.
I sat down at my desk for the first time in a very long time. I felt a strange mixture of feelings like I had so much to do and yet nothing to do. There was huge stack of unpaid bills in a pile. I didn’t even want to look at them. I still had fifty thousand dollars left from the money James put in our account, but I had a feeling it would take a lot more than that to dig us out from the hole we were in. I didn’t want to deal with it right now. It was too depressing. It felt weird thinking about spending money that wasn’t technically mine, but given everything I’d been through, I felt I deserved it.
I turned on my computer and opened my email program. There were hundreds of unread messages. I gave them a quick once over, deleting the spam and other unwanted messages, and as I scrolled back to the top, a message caught my eye. The sender was James Henderson, and the subject line read: Open this. He’d sent it that morning.
I clicked on the email and the window opened. Inside, there was an image of James with what looked like a large “Play” button in the center. I clicked on it, the screen expanded, and the video began to play.
He was wearing a red t-shirt and had sunglasses resting on his head. Where he was, I had no idea, but there was a beach behind him. He could have been anywhere. I guess that was the idea.
“Hey Simon,” he began, waving to the camera. “I guess I should begin by saying I’m sorry. I haven’t been very good to you, and for that, I’m truly sorry. I manipulated you, I deceived you, and I lied to you.”
Yeah, no kidding.
He turned slightly away from the camera in a pensive stare. “Where should I start?” he asked himself aloud.
“By now you probably know about the money,” he continued, looking back at the camera. “It was just too easy. I couldn’t help myself. As smart as the Escalantes were, they were terrible with their finances. Carlos used to steal from them all the time. Drugs, women, gambling... he had a lot of expenses, and just kept taking what he needed. Eventually, it got out of hand. That’s when he hired me. He wanted me to cover up what he’d done. Once I had access, I was blown away by how much money they had, and how little security to protect it. So I took some. I took a lot, actually. Although,” he said, rubbing his chin and looking away from the camera, “is a hundred million dollars a lot when you take it from someone with billions of dollars? Anyway,” he went on, looking back into the camera, “like I said, I couldn’t help myself. I took it. Then I ran, and Carlos was left holding the bag. Not only had he been stealing from his own family, he was the one that brought me in, and it cost them a lot more. I don’t care what they told you, that’s why they wanted him dead. They don’t care about appearances, but they do care about fuck ups. And that was an epic one. In the end, though, Christina loved him and Luis pitied him. They forgave him and came after me. But Enrique and Gustavo weren’t so forgiving. They wanted him dead, but weren’t prepared to cross Luis. That’s where you came in.”
He paused, as if he was wondering what he should say next.
“As lousy as the Escalantes were at money management, they were really good at tracking people down. They almost got to me a few times, some very close calls, including that night at the motel. Thank you for saving my life, by the way.”
So that’s why they shot up the hotel! Luis said they knew about Christina’s staged death, so I couldn’t understand why they’d come after me. But they weren’t after me. They were after James.
“Anyway, I needed to disappear. But I couldn’t run, I knew they’d find me. They had connections all over the world. I needed to go somewhere they couldn’t touch me. And that’s when I manufactured the story about the shooting in the movie theater. I spread it all over the internet and made sure it landed in your inbox. It really wasn’t very hard. Then I hacked into the police database, created my own file, including a phony warrant, arrest report, the whole shebang. I even arranged to be placed in solitary confinement in the isolation unit so I wouldn’t have to worry about cellmates. I paid the guards very handsomely and told them to come to me if anyone ever mentioned my name inside or outside the prison walls. Whatever they needed, I took care of it. Pay off their houses, tuition for their kids, new car, you name it. I had stolen a lot of money and was very generous with it. As such, they were extremely loyal.”
I shook my head in disbelief as he talked.
“I was safe, but I knew I couldn’t stay there forever. And I would never survive on the outside with the Escalantes gunning for me. I needed to find someone that had the balls to stand up to them, someone to do my dirty work for me. When I saw what you did to Carlos, or whoever that was, I was extremely impressed. The plan was to make your life a living hell, all the while making you believe they were behind it. I knew if I pressed enough buttons for long enough, eventually you’d have no choice but to go after them. All of those things, the false news stories, the unfair treatment by the press, the protests, the money in your account, the brick through your window, the media ambushes, the trooper who kicked your ass, the pictures sent to your wife… I was behind all of it. I arranged it all. Because I needed you to hate the Escalantes. I needed you to believe they were behind everything and the only way to get your life back was to put an end to them.”
I pressed pause and leaned back in my chair. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I was furious. I stood up and paced in front of my computer. This whole time, this wasn’t about revenge. They weren’t trying to get back at me for killing Carlos, or who I thought was Carlos. This was a manhunt. They were using me to get to James. They were going to railroad my case and send me straight to prison so I get could close to him. But James was too smart. He and used me to get to them first. Enrique and Gustavo used William to convince me to go after Christina. Christina used me to go after Enrique and Gustavo, and James used me to go after all of them.
I had spent countless hours trying to figure out how the press always seemed to know right where I was, who had organized the protest outside my office, why the media had it in for me, where those pictures came from, and why I was getting my ass kicked every other day. I always assumed it was Christina. And maybe some of it was. Or the twins. But it turned out James was playing me before I even knew who he was. All to cover his ass and protect his stolen money. I told myself none of it mattered now, it was over. But it did little to appease my anger. I sat back down at the computer and pressed play again.
“After I met you, I felt terrible about all the things I’d done to you. You were such a good guy. You cared about me, and were so worried about my girlfriend and the
baby. I made that up too, by the way. There is no Lisa and there is no baby.”
“What?!” I said aloud.
“I’m twenty-two… there’s no way in hell I would be stupid enough to knock up some chick and ruin my life. I invented her to give the Escalantes someone else to chase and to raise my sympathy quotient with you.”
I practically gasped when he said that. I didn’t think my jaw could hang open any further, but it kept getting lower the more he talked.
“But you were such a nice guy, I felt like I needed to do something to make amends for everything I’d done. That’s why I decided to help you. I delivered the thumb drive and you seemed to have figured out how to use the information rather nicely. Congratulations on getting your case dismissed, by the way,” he said with a wink. “There are probably a few more things on there that you’ll put to use before you’re finished.”
I nodded in agreement, even though he couldn’t actually see me.
“What you did to the Escalantes was just incredible. Somehow you managed to get them to go after each other. I mean, it was brilliant! I guess Christina didn’t quite go along with the plan though, did she? But from what I read this morning in the FBI’s file, you took care of her too. Honestly, Simon, I really had no idea how effective you would be, but I’m genuinely impressed.”
His compliments were meaningless. I’d been drawn into a cat and mouse game between him and the Escalantes that had nothing to do with me. My life had been in jeopardy for over a year now, I’d been torn away from my wife and kids, dragged through the mud in the media, beaten up repeatedly, lost my reputation and my practice, been thrown in jail multiple times, and was in debt up to my eyeballs. The fact that James was impressed did nothing for me. Frankly, I would have liked to punch him right in the face.
The video kept going.
“I owe you such a huge debt of gratitude, Simon. I thought I would be living my life on the run, always looking over my shoulder. With the Escalantes out of the picture, I’m free and clear. I don’t know how to thank you.”
I scoffed. Nothing he could do or say could make up for the torture and torment, both physical and mental, I’d endured over the last year.
“But I’d like to try,” he went on. “I made another small deposit into your bank account this morning. Don’t think of this as a payoff, think of it as a gift, a way of me saying thank you in the only way I can. And don’t worry, the IRS won’t find out.” He winked into the camera. “Anyway, I better get going. Lots to do and places to go. Good luck with everything, Simon. I mean that, sincerely.”
With that, the video ended and he was gone. I sat back, struggling to believe everything he said. Everything he did to me, he did it all for money. He used me to go after the Escalantes and protect his fucking money.
Speaking of money…
I closed the video and opened a new tab in my web browser. A few clicks later and I was on my bank’s website. I logged in, pulled up my account balance, and nearly fainted. I stared at it for a while, making sure it was real.
“Sara!” I shouted. “Sara!” I’m sure I sounded like a crazy person.
She came running in, a look of panic on her face. I apologized for scaring her, and pointed at the monitor. She leaned in over my shoulder to look.
“Ten million dollars?!”
Epilogue
The next few months were a whirlwind. The information James had provided on the thumb drive continued to wreak havoc on those who wronged me.
Peter Blunt had been arrested and charged with committing multiple felonies, and was now facing twelve to twenty-four years in prison.
William Alter, renowned criminal defense attorney, had been arrested, disbarred, and was being investigated for his involvement with the Escalante crime family. He was also facing a legal malpractice suit for negligence and failing to properly represent his client—me. I genuinely hoped he ended up behind bars where he would be greeted prison-style by any number of disgruntled former clients.
Unsure who would come out on top, he had been playing both sides against the middle from the beginning. He originally worked for Enrique and Gustavo, but when he learned that Christina was on to them, his loyalty changed. If any of them were still alive, he’d be dead already.
Judge Charles Keever had been forced to step down as judge of the fifteenth circuit amidst charges of taking bribes in exchange for favorable rulings and receiving kickbacks from various detention centers for aiding in their population growth.
Special Agent Paxton Stamper had been fired, arrested, and brought up on charges stemming from his long-time involvement with the Escalante family, for doctoring evidence, falsifying reports, lying to superiors, and for leaking classified information. Plus, he was an asshole to boot.
All four of them also faced one additional charge: Conspiracy. They conspired to ruin my life, send me to jail, and get me killed. I hoped they were all found guilty, sent to prison, and rotted in hell.
The money James gifted me came in very handy. Sara and I paid off all of our debt, including the mortgage on our house and the one on my office building. We put a bunch of it away for Jordan and Brock’s first cars, college tuition, first house, and so on. They would be well taken care of. I gave Vera and Alexis raises, gave my office a much needed facelift, and hired a public relations expert to put my reputation and my practice back together. I had sorted everything out with the state board and the investigation for sexual assault was dropped. It would take some time, but I would be a well-respected optometrist with a thriving practice once again.
I also gave Ingo a million dollars. He tried to refuse it, but I insisted. He had earned every penny of it, plus his house needed some significant repairs thanks to Raul and his pals. He deserved it, and I was glad to do it. Without him, there was no way I would have made it through this alive.
Not long after our newfound good fortune, I sought out the widow of Wesley Norton. He was the man masquerading as Carlos Escalante that day in the bank. The man I had shot and killed. He did it for a measly ten thousand dollars, money he desperately needed to take care of his sick wife. Angie Norton was battling Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma and it had bankrupted their family. They had no insurance, no savings, and no one to help.
Sara and I paid off all of their debt, all of her past and pending medical expenses, and gave her one million dollars for anything and everything else she might need. The last time we spoke to her, her cancer was in remission, and she was feeling and doing great.
As for Carlos, it was easy to worry about what he might do or when he might decide to come after me. After all, he was the one that got me out of jail, and he expected James served up on a platter as repayment. James had stolen from them and embarrassed Carlos, and had to pay. After everything James had done for me, I couldn’t just turn him over to Carlos. Besides, I didn’t know where he was anyway.
Carlos was furious, but I made him see reason. I explained that James had a rather intimate and detailed knowledge of the Escalante’s business dealings. He knew about all of their holdings, all of their associates, had all of their banking information, both on and offshore, knew about every transaction, every payoff, and every bribe. He knew about every cop and every judge on the payroll.
I had seen it all as well, and even had copies of everything. I reminded Carlos that he was now the lone head of the Escalante family, the money would continue pouring in, and that two little pissants like James and me were not important. If something happened to either one of us, all of that information would find its way into the hands of the appropriate authorities.
We agreed to remain friends and never speak to each other again.
Mark Frazier had been writing for the Palm Beach Herald for nearly two decades. His work as an investigative reporter had garnered nationwide attention and he had won numerous awards. His work had been featured on national news programs, including 60 Minutes, Nightl
ine, and NPR. The Herald was lucky to have him, and they knew it. He’d written so many front page stories that he had carte blanche to pick and choose what he would write about. So when he reached out to me about a feature story, I was flattered.
“And who knows,” he said, “if all goes well, there will probably be a book deal in it for you.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. I guess William was right. There was a book deal in it after all.
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