Game Theory--A Katerina Carter Fraud Legal Thriller
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GAME THEORY
A Katerina Carter Fraud Legal Thriller
Table of Contents
Title Page
Game Theory: A Katerina Carter Fraud Thriller
Epigraph
Praise for GAME THEORY
Also by Colleen Cross
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Author’s Note
Also by Colleen Cross
Colleen Cross
GAME THEORY
A Katerina Carter Fraud Thriller
Colleen Tompkins writing as Colleen Cross
Copyright © 2012, 2016 by Colleen Cross, Colleen Tompkins
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written consent of the copyright holder and publisher. The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law.
Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. If you are reading this eBook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
ISBN: 978-0-9878835-2-0 Paperback
ISBN: 978-0-9878835-1-3 Ebook
Published by Slice Publishing
For information see http://ColleenCross.com
Epigraph
Laws are spider webs through which the big flies pass and the little ones get caught.
Honoré de Balzac (1799-1850)
Praise for GAME THEORY
“If you like a good conspiracy theory, you’ll LOVE Colleen Cross’ financial thriller, Game Theory. Financial fraud investigator, Kat Carter, is confronted with the very real possibility of world order conspiracy in this smart and compelling read that relates hauntingly to the current global economic and political climates. Was the economic crisis created? Is the news we are fed designed to mold our opinions and actions? Are we all just pawns in someone else’s game? You’ll begin to wonder after reading Game Theory. Thought provoking and wonderfully entertaining!”
—Karen Cantwell, author
“Another gripping page-turner from Colleen Cross. Suspense-charged to provide one plot twist after another, this credible tale of global fraud and currency domination draws you in and never lets go. An intelligent and exciting read!”
—Sandra Nikolai, author
Also by Colleen Cross
Katerina Carter Color of Money Mysteries
Red Handed - a short story
When forensic accountant and fraud investigator Katerina Carter and journalist boyfriend Jace Burton accept an impromptu party invitation, crime is the last thing on their minds. Then a winning wine investment leaves a sour taste in Kat’s mouth and she unravels the clues to a million-dollar wine fraud, all before dinner!
Blue Moon - a novelette
Kat and boyfriend Jace’s plans for a fancy dinner go awry when she discovers that her elderly neighbor Fiona has taken an ex-con into her home as a boarder. Fiona’s volunteer gardening program at the local prison has changed lives, but extending her generosity further just might put her own life in jeopardy.
Kat’s suspicion deepens when she learns of a recent life insurance policy. And accidental death pays double.
Greenwash - a novel
Forensic accountant Katerina Carter and boyfriend Jace Burton embark on a weekend getaway at a luxury mountaintop lodge just before Christmas. While he writes the biography of a billionaire environmentalist, she explores the snowy wilderness.
Then two local protestors die under mysterious circumstances, and Kat and Jace race against time to save themselves from an even deadlier disaster.
Katerina Carter Fraud Legal Thriller series
Exit Strategy
Forensic accountant Katerina Carter's fraud investigation uncovers a massive blood diamond laundering scheme at Liberty Diamond Mines, just as two key Liberty insiders are murdered. Kat could be next - unless she allows the real criminals to walk free.
Game Theory
Forensic accountant Katerina Carter's fraud investigation uncovers a massive Ponzi scheme connected to the shadowy World Institute, a global think tank with a chilling hidden agenda.
Kat is trapped in a high stakes political conspiracy where the players will stop at nothing to get what they want, in a game she cannot afford to lose.
Blowout
Forensic accountant Katerina Carter and boyfriend Jace Burton investigate a mysterious 1930’s cult on a sparsely populated island off Canada’s west coast. Another mystery unfolds aboard their billionaire host’s yacht, one with deadly consequences for all.
Westwick Witches Cozy Mystery Series
Witch You Well
Rags to Witches
Witch & Famous
Christmas Witch List
Non-Fiction:
Anatomy of a Ponzi: Scams Past and Present
Colleen’s books have been translated into multiple languages.
Want the latest on Colleen’s new releases and subscriber only special offers? Sign up for Colleen’s new release newsletter at www.colleencross.com
Chapter 1
He didn’t look like a man about to die. They never did. Part of the thrill was deciding their fates. It just required a bit of planning.
“Back up. Just a little.” She focused him in her sights. He was easily twice her age, but surprisingl
y fit for sixty. He had matched her step for step as they skied and then snow-shoed up the steep Summit Trail. Wanted her in bed, just like every other man. She had decided long ago to use that to her advantage.
He stepped back, moving closer to the cornice slab of snow that jutted out unsupported from the cliff. She’d been careful to take the eastern approach so he wouldn’t notice the dangerous overhang. Her pulse quickened as she anticipated what was to come. Whiskey jacks flew past on reconnaissance, the small gray birds circling as they swooped in to scavenge muffin crumbs from the man’s outstretched hand.
It was a Wednesday morning and the backcountry was deserted. Another man on snowshoes had passed them in the opposite direction more than an hour ago. They were alone.
“Smile.” She zoomed in, clicked the shutter, and felt a rush of exhilaration. Hers would be the last face he would see, the last voice he would hear.
He grinned as he shifted his weight and unzipped his Gore-tex jacket. The sun shone through the low clouds, creating strange shadows across the snow.
A split second later his face contorted, confidence replaced with unmasked fear. His mouth dropped open as his eyes hollowed with terror. It was her favorite part: the hunter now the prey, and her victim knowing she had something to do with it.
Realization froze on his face as the ground beneath broke into pieces, unable to support his weight. The snow overhang snapped off the cliff, sending him hurtling down to the valley two hundred meters below.
His screams echoed down the canyon. Then silence, except for the whiskey jacks circling back for seconds.
She smiled. Almost too easy. She tossed the camera over the edge. No bullets, no mess. No trace, unless someone came looking before the next snowfall, forecasted to start in a few hours. Even if they found him before the spring melt, it would look like an accident, a tourist unfamiliar with backcountry snow conditions. She scattered the rest of the muffin to the birds. They pecked at each other, fighting for what was left of the crumbs.
Just like she once did. Not anymore. She would get her fair share, even if she had to kill for it.
Chapter 2
Katerina Carter shifted in the hard plastic chair and tucked her hands under her thighs. Her fingers were crossed on both hands, knuckles crushed into the unforgiving seat. It defied logic, but she did it anyway. What did she have to lose?
Uncle Harry hunched forward beside her, elbows on knees, poised for Dr. McAdam’s next question. His first mini mental health exam had been six months ago, right after the accident. The early-stage Alzheimer’s diagnosis meant the loss of his driver’s license and the independence that went along with it. He’d been depressed ever since, his memory dramatically worsening.
The tiny examination room barely held the three of them. Since the diagnosis, the doctor had insisted a family member accompany him. That was Kat given Aunt Elsie’s heart attack and sudden passing a year ago.
“What city are we in, Harry?” Dr. McAdam rolled back on his stool as he waited for an answer.
“Vancouver.” Her uncle pulled a hanky from his pocket and wiped his brow. A thin sheen of sweat covered his forehead.
“Good. What is your home address?”
“Easy—418 Maple.” Harry beamed.
“All right. What year is it?”
“It’s 1989.”
“Hmmm. What month?”
“June.”
“What day of the week?”
“Saturday.”
December 5, 2012, a Wednesday. The Weather Channel finally got it right today. Wet snow, chance of freezing rain tonight.
Kat checked her watch. Most of the afternoon gone with a full day’s work waiting for her at the office. Like most days lately—plans derailed, whole days and weeks evaporated in an instant. Keeping Harry safe, fed, and calm was practically a full-time job.
“You better get yourself a calendar, doc. Now will you help me get my license back?”
“Let’s deal with this first, Harry.” Dr. McAdam pointed to a drawing. “What do you see in this picture?”
Harry cast a furtive glance at Kat. “A watch.”
“And this?” Dr. McAdam smiled at him.
“A pen. See? Easy-peasy.”
“Now some arithmetic. Starting at one hundred, count down by taking seven off each time.”
Harry wrung his hands together. “How is this getting my license back?”
“Just bear with me, Harry.” Dr. McAdam shifted his gaze to Kat.
“Uncle Harry, just relax. Take your time.” Kat’s mother had failed a similar test twenty years ago when she was first diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. The mood and memory changes were unmistakable, even to a fourteen-year-old.
Kat’s father had accompanied her mother to the appointment. Shortly thereafter, he had walked out on both of them for good. That’s when she had moved in with the Dentons. Alzheimer’s was a cruel death sentence.
At least Harry got twenty more years of sanity than his sister. Early-onset Alzheimer’s like her mom’s supposedly ran in families. Did she inherit the gene? She’d rather not know.
“One hundred.”
Silence.
“Ninety-three.” Harry’s brows creased.
Kat squeezed her fingers together as her stomach growled. Kat’s lunch plans had been foiled by a two-hour delay to convince Harry to leave the house. Harry had all his meals with her and Jace now, partly because he always forgot to eat on his own.
“Twenty-three.”
She pulled one hand free and glanced sideways at Harry. She wasn’t that hungry after all. Matter of fact, she felt a bit sick to her stomach. Harry had complained of stomach cramps for the last few days too. Must be that flu going around.
Harry counted down to three and turned his gaze to the door. He hummed under his breath.
“Harry?”
“Doc? Are we done now?”
“Not quite.” Dr. McAdam sighed and handed him a pencil with a clipboard. “I want you to draw a clock face. Then draw the clock hands pointing to ten before two.”
Easy enough. Harry didn’t read or do his morning crossword anymore, but he still knew what time it was. He always chided Kat for being late.
Harry tapped the pencil against his lip and stared at the blank page on the clipboard. Slowly he lowered his arm and started to draw.
A shaky, oblong circle, but it was a circle.
Kat exhaled.
Harry dropped the pencil on the clipboard and brought his hand to his face. He brushed his index finger back and forth against his lip. Finally he picked the pencil up again and pressed the lead to paper. One line. Then a second one.
Upside down, marking 6:35.
“Now can I get my license back?”
“Harry—you remember your car accident?” Dr. McAdam removed a pen from his pocket. “You can’t have your license back unless you retake and pass the driver’s exam.”
Harry had crashed his prized 1970s Lincoln through the front window of Carlucci’s Pasta House after mistaking the gas pedal for the brake. Luckily the accident happened just after the lunch crowd had dispersed. No one was hurt, but the damage was done.
His life had spiraled downward since then. He had missed numerous appointments, accused his neighbor of stealing, and most recently, set his kitchen on fire after forgetting to turn the stove off. Luckily Kat had arrived in time to smother it, limiting the damage to a blackened wall. She shuddered to think of what might have happened.
Harry thrust the clipboard back into the doctor’s hands. “One accident in almost sixty years! You pulled my license for that? Not fair. I’ve got the reflexes of a thirty-year-old.” Harry motioned to Kat. “Tell him, Kat.”
Kat pretended to search her purse for her cell phone.
“Kat?”
“Less to worry about, Uncle Harry. I can drive you to your appointments.”
“I don’t want you driving me places. I’m perfectly capable of driving myself.”
“No, you’re not. You get
lost and—” The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them. “I just think it would be easier on you, that’s all.”
“So you two are in this together? Maybe I’m retired, but I’m not dead. Or stupid.” He flushed and turned to Dr. McAdam. “Let me retake the road test.”
Dr. McAdam pursed his lips. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“You’re not safe out there, Uncle Harry. What if it happens again?”
“It won’t. If you won’t help me, fine. Hillary will.”
Kat opened her mouth, then caught herself before answering.
Dr. McAdam frowned. “Hillary?”
“Harry’s daughter.” She shuddered just thinking about Hillary. Her cousin had vanished ten years ago, shortly after reneging on a six-figure loan from Harry and Elsie. They had refused to advance her any more money. Not that they could have, since it had wiped out their savings and taken them years to recover. Harry sure talked about her a lot lately. Alzheimer’s stripped away recent memories and regenerated ancient ones, like river rocks eroded underwater.
Dr. McAdam stood and brushed his palms on his white lab coat. “Your troubles are much bigger than driving, Harry. I suggest you get your affairs in order, and soon. Alzheimer’s can progress very quickly.”
“Alzheimer’s? That’s ridiculous. I don’t have Alzheimer’s.” Harry jumped from the chair and brushed past Dr. McAdam. He turned at the doorway. “Go to hell. Both of you!”
He threw open the door and slammed it behind him.
The Harry she knew never would have done that. Kat blinked back tears as she stood. She grabbed the chair back, overcome by dizziness as black dots darkened her vision.
Dr. McAdam held up his hand, oblivious to her condition. “Wait—he’ll cool off in the waiting room. We should chat anyways. What else have you noticed?”
Kat’s vision cleared and the shakiness passed. “He has delusions. Talks about Aunt Elsie like she’s still alive. He thinks squatters have moved into his house and are trying to kill him.”
“Typical.” Dr. McAdam scribbled something on his prescription pad and handed it to Kat. “Have him try these. They could help with the hallucinations and might slow down the progression of the disease. You also need to start exploring caregiving options now, because the disease requires a great deal of expertise and attention. The better places have waiting lists, which you’ll need to get on. Call my office tomorrow and we’ll arrange for Harry to see another doctor.”