“I don’t know, but I intend to find out. There’s a story here—I can feel it.” Jace punched some keys on his laptop. “Another thing—Svensson’s now out of the running for the Nobel. Apparently you can’t win if you’re dead.”
“Doesn’t winning a Nobel include money?”
“Ten million crown. One and a half million dollars.”
“That’s a hefty sum,” Kat said. “Some people would kill for it.”
“You think he was murdered?”
“Possibly. I don’t know. At any rate, we have to find this year’s conference location and get the proof of Nathan’s involvement. Svensson’s been to the last three conferences, so he’s probably still invited to this conference, even if he did change his mind. I think I know where it is.”
“Where?”
“Right here,” she said. “See these dots on your map? It’s due for a west coast venue. It also explains why Svensson was here. See if you can find out if any of the others are here. Check all the high-end hotels. They might arrive the day before and stay in a downtown hotel. Then check all the local conference centers. Places outside of the city, where the perimeter can be secured. Preferably ones with limited access. We don’t have much time if they’re already here.”
“Got it.”
That was the easy part. The hard part was getting in.
Chapter 23
Kat’s hunch was confirmed ten minutes later.
“The Tides Resort at Hideaway Bay,” Jace said. “Close, yet hard to reach.”
“On the Sunshine Coast? I can’t imagine these VIPs coming in on the ferry.”
The Sunshine Coast was ten miles north of Vancouver, yet it was accessible only by boat. Getting there involved two short drives with a forty-minute ferry sandwiched in between.
Locals relied on government ferries to stay connected to the rest of the province—still, British Columbia ferries were for the proletariat, not global elites accustomed to five-star service. Kat couldn’t imagine them lining up behind SUV’s and minivans in two-hour ferry line-ups, sipping coffee from commuter cups while trying to keep warm.
“They don’t have to take the ferry,” Jace said. “They can fly from the Vancouver Airport in a matter of minutes on a small charter plane or helicopter. The Tides Resort has a landing strip.”
“We’ll need to confirm it somehow.”
“Done. I already called the hotel because Monsieur Bruneau forgot his medication.” Jace grinned. “I arranged to have it couriered immediately.”
“You’re so devious.” Kat circled her arms around his waist and hugged him.
Jace bent his head to kiss her. “When do we leave? Bruneau checks in tomorrow.”
Two hours later Kat, Jace and Harry sat on a worn bench seat in the Sunshine Coast ferry’s forward cabin. The ship’s interior hadn’t changed since it first set sail in the sixties, aside from the scarring of the powder blue naugahyde from generations of passengers and not nearly enough upkeep. The cabin windows were fogged, a result of damp clothing meeting the warmth inside.
“That’s him.” Kat dropped her newspaper and pointed across the aisle to the opposite side of the ship. A tall, thin man balanced a coffee cup with one hand while he fished a notebook out of a knapsack.
Jace leaned closer as the recorded safety message crackled over the ferry’s ancient, distorted speakers. “Who?”
“Roger Landers.” Kat locked her eyes on Landers. He wore jeans, and his unzipped ski jacket revealed a fleece pullover underneath. “We’re definitely in the right place.”
Kat was surprised Jace hadn’t noticed him first. Landers had tracked down the last dozen or so World Institute conferences and tried to get into every single one There could be only one reason for his presence on the ferry.
The journalist glanced up and met Kat’s gaze. He jumped from his seat and winced as he spilled coffee on his hand. He dropped the cup and brushed his hand against his jacket. Then he turned and strode back towards mid-ship, headed for the parking deck stairs.
“I’ve got to meet him.” Kat rose and followed.
Jace frowned and shook his head, clearly embarrassed. She ignored him.
Harry spun around in his seat. “Where are you going, Kat?”
Kat didn’t answer.
Landers glanced back at her. He reached the stairs and broke into a run, taking the steps two at a time.
“Wait!” Kat shouted. “I just want to talk to you.”
Landers’ pace quickened as he disappeared around the corner. Kat bounded down the stairs, reaching the door to the parking garage as it closed halfway. She pushed it open and gazed out at the sea of vehicles. Landers was gone.
Somewhere down the long lines of cars and trucks, a dog barked, its cries echoing under the low ceilings of the car deck. Aside from the dog it was eerily quiet, a stark contrast from the mayhem thirty minutes ago when they boarded at Horseshoe Bay. She had to catch Landers before the boat docked in twenty minutes if she wanted to talk to him. Maybe they could combine forces.
She jumped as footsteps sounded somewhere in front of her. Landers’s silhouette was outlined under a beam of harsh white fluorescent twenty feet ahead. He spotted her and ducked behind a Ford F–150 truck. She weaved in and out of the vehicles, tracking her eyes on where she last saw him.
“Mr. Landers? Please don’t run. We can help each other.”
Silence.
Kat ran to the truck but Landers was already gone. She craned her ears for footsteps but heard only a dripping pipe beside her. What reason did he have to run from her? He didn’t even know her. More importantly, where did he go?
Kat jumped as something crashed at the front of the boat. It sounded like it came from the section where they parked the bicycles, but of course there weren’t any at this time of year.
Then she saw Landers. His back faced her, silhouetted against an ocean backdrop. The front of the car park level was completely open, except for a barrier of double ropes that were removed when the vehicles disembarked. He turned and met her gaze for a split second. Then he jumped.
Chapter 24
The ferry detour meant angry passengers and a schedule to make up. The ferry captain’s onboard announcement practically accused Kat of staging a hoax. The police seemed skeptical too, finding no evidence of a man overboard.
Kat couldn’t wait to disembark to escape the angry glares of delayed passengers. She drove the Subaru off the ferry ramp and followed the vehicle traffic out of the ferry terminal and up the steep hill that led to the highway. It was the same route they often travelled to Kurt Ritter’s cabin. Like Jace, Kurt was also a search and rescue volunteer.
“Why would Landers jump?” The brush opened up to a panoramic vista of Howe Sound beyond the edge of the highway, but Kat barely noticed. She still couldn’t figure out how Roger Landers had disappeared into thin air right before her eyes.
“Running scared,” Jace said. “I’d be scared too, if you ran after me like that.”
Kat rolled her eyes. “I just wanted to talk to him. I don’t understand why he took off, or jumped for that matter.”
“He obviously thought you were someone else,” Jace said.
“He’d rather drown than be caught?” Landers wouldn’t last five minutes in the frigid ocean waters. “What on earth is he running from?”
Several nearby passengers had practically attacked her when she pulled the emergency alarm. Apparently their schedules were more important than a maritime accident. But the fact remained: Landers had gone over the edge. She knew what she saw, even if she was the only witness. Weren’t you supposed to help a man overboard?
“We don’t know he’s gone for sure. Only that he’s disappeared.”
“Jace, he just vanished. There’s nowhere for him to swim to. No land, no boats.” Landers was gone without a trace, despite the captain’s efforts in turning the ferry around and the coast guard’s almost immediate arrival.
Kat stole glimpses at the water as the Subaru hu
gged the curves along the coastal highway. Whatever secrets the waters held would remain that way, at least for now. She steered off the highway onto an unpaved, hilly logging road. An hour later, the ruts and rocks finally gave way to smooth pavement, and the property came into view.
The Tides Resort was built into the hillside like a bunker. Large stone boulders anchored huge, old-growth cedar beams that rose three stories, framing a stunning view through its center. Kat saw a large lobby through the large glass panes, and beyond that, the ocean. The great room was dominated by a massive stone fireplace, the hearth giving off an orange glow. Several people sat around it, sipping drinks.
On the left was a second building that Kat took to be the conference center. Beyond its glass and steel façade was ocean and nothing else. Tall Douglas firs flanked the two buildings like sentinels. A garden and walkway sat between them, beyond which the cliff dropped off into the ocean far below. Even on a wintry day, it took her breath away.
“You remember the plan, Jace?”
“I’m the technician setting up the audio visual equipment. A last-minute replacement.”
Kat had uncovered both the company and employee name with a phone call to the hotel to verify the technician’s onsite accommodations.
Then she called the video company and canceled the gig. They were now free to take the company’s place. It was the perfect cover. They got a room, and no one had ever seen the company’s employees. As long as the A/V stuff was basic, they would be fine.
Jace, however, was uneasy. “I’m not so sure about this, Kat.”
“I thought you were an investigative reporter.” She pulled the Subaru into the long circular driveway and pulled to a stop.
“Why me?” Jace’s face darkened as the valet approached the car. “This is never going to work. I don’t even know what the guy looks like. How can I disguise myself like him?”
“You don’t have to. The resort staff have never met him either. Besides, you’re a guy. I could hardly pass for what’s-his-name. And Harry’s too old.”
That got Harry’s attention from the back seat.
“Too old for what?”
“Never mind.” Kat handed the keys to the valet and opened her door.
“Oh. We’re staying here?” Harry’s eyes widened. “Wow.”
“Grab your stuff, Harry.” Jace opened the passenger door. “Let’s go.”
“Remember,” she whispered to Jace as they went inside. “You’re tired and want to check in as quickly as possible. Act irritable so they won’t want to talk to you.”
Kat steered Harry to a pair of low leather couches. Her eyes followed Jace as he headed to the check-in desk. She’d insisted he wear a suit. Even if he was only the A/V technician, it was important to blend in. She figured global power-broker types probably slept in their suits.
She was glad she had insisted. Jace was dressed just like the two other men at the lobby bar—except Jace was decidedly fitter and hotter-looking. She couldn’t help but admire the way the well-cut jacket defined his broad shoulders and slim waist. Most definitely not a nerdy A/V technician.
She studied the two men sitting at the bar. They were engrossed in conversation, angled towards each other, making it hard to get a good look at them. Likely two of the hundred or so guests. One of them waved his arms emphatically, almost spilling the drinks on the bar. Kat pulled out her cell phone and held it up.
“Isn’t this beautiful?” she said loudly to Harry in what she hoped would pass for some sort of European accent. She snapped a picture, making sure the two men appeared in the frame. It might come in handy later on.
Ten minutes later Kat, Jace, and Harry admired the ocean view from the balcony of their third-floor suite. They sat bundled in their winter jackets, their backs to the gas patio heater that Jace had turned on full blast.
“Are you sure about this, Kat? They didn’t even ask for my credit card. Someone’s bound to find out.”
“Not if we keep a low profile. The people who made the arrangements probably aren’t even here. Even if they are, with so many other details and people to keep track of, room assignments are the last thing on their minds. Besides, they rented the whole resort, so it’s not going to matter. No one will notice.”
“I’m not so sure. What if we get caught?” Jace peered over the balcony railing.
“We won’t. We’ll get proof Nathan’s here, maybe even the level of his involvement. We can be out of here tomorrow, with enough time to wrap up the Edgewater case.” Suddenly she was hungry. She rose from her chair and went inside to investigate the mini-bar fridge. She chose a package of toasted almonds, three Coffee Crisp chocolate bars, and a bottle of Merlot.
She carried the wine and three glasses outside, along with the snacks.
“Let’s order room service so no one wonders why we’re not dining with the other guests.”
“I guess that’s me again?” Jace unwrapped a Coffee Crisp.
“You’re the boss.” Kat tossed the room service menu across the table. She poured the wine into glasses.
“None for me.” Harry stood. “I’m bushed. I need a nap.”
Kat rose and showed Harry to his room. The suite had two adjoining rooms, each with a fireplace.
“Remember, don’t go anywhere without us.”
“I won’t. Good night, Kat.”
Kat shut the door and returned to the main suite. Was it right for her to bring her uncle here? Probably not, but she certainly couldn’t leave Harry alone for days at a time, especially not after his kitchen fire.
Jace came inside from the balcony as she checked her watch. It was six o’clock and she switched on the television, hoping for an update on Roger Landers and his disappearance from the ferry. The news anchor cycled through the local news with no mention of the missing journalist. World news dominated the broadcast. Greece and Portugal had failed to meet International Monetary Fund loan terms they had agreed as part of their earlier bailouts.
“Isn’t the IMF head here at the conference?” Jace placed the telephone receiver back in its cradle. He’d ordered steaks for the two of them and a Monte Cristo sandwich for Harry in case he woke up.
“Jean-Claude Bruneau?” Kat didn’t like the expression on Jace’s face. “Don’t even think of following him, talking to him, or confronting him, Jace.”
“I’ll be discreet. It’s the opportunity of a lifetime.”
“No way. Not until I get the goods on Nathan. Promise?”
Jace pouted. “Alright. I guess.”
“Wonder how he feels about bailing out these countries.” The fate of so many in the hands of a few. It reminded Kat of feudal lords in medieval times, where the elite lived in castles, and the serfs lived outside the walls. A lucky few got to live inside the castle walls, leaving the rest unprotected and vulnerable.
“Bruneau? He doesn’t care one way or the other. It’s the IMF’s mandate. He doesn’t have to care to do it.”
“True, but you’ve got to wonder if the global financial system actually caused the failures in the first place. A few countries set the rules for everyone else to follow. Rules that favor themselves.” Kat turned her attention back to the television. The weather forecast was for mixed rain and snow tomorrow. Still no mention of Landers and his ferry disappearance.
“Loan defaults don’t exactly bolster their case,” she said. “Unless, of course, they wanted them to fail.” The Research Analytics payments proved money was being diverted for something other than legitimate research fees. Assuming Research Analytics was a front, what was the World Institute using the money for? Was it really a conspiracy to destroy the world’s currencies?
Kat grabbed the remote just as she heard a man’s voice outside their room. Her pulse quickened. It was too soon for room service. She muted the volume and realized it wasn’t coming from the hallway. It was just Uncle Harry talking in his sleep in the adjoining room.
Chapter 25
Kat awoke to a knock on the door. Jace must
have ordered breakfast room service. Her mouth watered as she envisioned eggs Benedict and waffles. She rolled over and reached across the bed.
She rested her arm on Jace’s stomach and traced her fingers over his taut abs. If Jace was still in bed, then he hadn’t called room service. Her disappointment turned to apprehension. Had they been discovered already?
“Jace,” she whispered. “Someone’s at the door.”
“Hmmm.” He rolled over and stroked her shoulder with his hand. Her skin tingled as his hand moved down her arm. The knocks came louder. She snapped back to attention.
“Jace, answer it.”
“Okay. Don’t go anywhere.” Jace rose and threw on a shirt and pants. He walked to the door and peered through the peephole. He turned and padded back to the bed and sat down, shaking his head.
“You’re never going to believe this.” He buttoned his shirt.
“Believe what?” Kat bounded out of bed and threw on sweats and a t-shirt.
The pounding grew even louder, like someone was throwing their weight into it.
“It’s your cousin Hillary.” Hillary, Kat, and Jace had all been in the same grade at school. Jace had taken an immediate dislike to her, despite Hillary’s best efforts to send him swooning.
Kat’s pulse quickened as she flashed back to her last confrontation with Hillary. Aunt Elsie’s diamond rings had been stolen. Hillary insisted there had been a break-in, but Kat suspected otherwise. Soon after the robbery, Hillary sported a new Rolex, no doubt bartered for the missing rings. She was nothing but trouble. “Impossible. She’s been gone for ten years. Besides, how would she even know we’re here?”
“I know, but I’m positive it’s her. Maybe Harry hasn’t been imagining things. Come here and see for yourself.”
Kat tiptoed up to the peephole and held her breath as she peered through the viewfinder.
The years had added wrinkles, a sagging chin, and a ton of makeup. Hillary’s eyes hid behind Chanel sunglasses with an oversized logo. Worn like a label to advertise her status and impeccable taste, despite the fact she was indoors in the dead of winter.
Game Theory--A Katerina Carter Fraud Legal Thriller Page 11