Game Theory--A Katerina Carter Fraud Legal Thriller

by Colleen Cross

  Kat opened the door and her cousin steamrolled past her, practically knocking her over. She wore a low-cut sleeveless dress, even though it was sub-zero outside. White salt stains formed circular patterns on her brown stiletto boots. An exaggerated D&G zipper tag hung off each boot. It was Hillary all right.

  “Where the hell is Dad?” Hillary headed straight for the patio sliders, pushing her giant sunglasses up onto her teased and hair-sprayed hair. “What have you done with him? You kidnapped him!”

  “Hillary?” Kat asked. “What are you doing here? Why would you think—?”

  Jace’s mouth dropped as Hillary stormed past him onto the deck. A gust of cold air rushed in.

  Finding no one on the balcony, Hillary marched back inside, leaving the sliding door open to the cold. She headed to the closet, practically ripping the door off its tracks.

  “Tell me where he is. Now!”

  Jace walked over to the patio door and closed it. He arched his eyebrows at Kat but said nothing.

  “He’s in the next room. What’s going on?” Kat asked, still in shock.

  Hillary yanked on the knob, and when it didn’t open, pounded on the adjoining door.

  “Dad! Open the door.”

  “Take it easy,” Kat said. “You’ll break it.”

  Hillary just glared at her. Then the door opened from the other side.

  Harry emerged, looking sleepy.

  “Hillary!” He smiled. “What a nice surprise.”

  Kat stole a glance at Jace. He threw daggers at Hillary, who didn’t seem to notice.

  “How did you know we were here?” When they were teenagers, Kat sometimes thought Hillary stalked her.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” Hillary glared at Kat from across the room.

  Kat studied Hillary. Heavy brown eye shadow framed her eyes. They resembled a pair of burnt-out sockets.

  “I’m calling the police and having you charged.” Hillary grabbed Harry by the arm. “You’ll never work another day in your life once I’m through with you.”

  “Charged with what?” What the hell was she doing here?

  “Forcing him here against his will.”

  “Uncle Harry, did I force you to come here?”

  Hillary cupped her hand over Harry’s mouth just as he started to speak. She turned to Kat. “Don’t talk to him. You’ve done enough.”

  “Hillary, I had to bring him with me.” She glanced at Harry, wondering how to explain to Hillary without hurting Harry’s feelings. “The dementia—it’s getting worse.”

  Harry glanced down at the carpet, crestfallen.

  “I’m sorry, Uncle Harry.”

  “It’s okay. Kat’s right. I know I’m not as sharp as I used to be.”

  “He’s not safe on his own, Hillary. If you’d been around the last few years, maybe you’d know that.”

  Hillary didn’t know about Harry leaving the stove on and almost burning down the house. Or driving his Lincoln through the front window of Carlucci’s Pasta House. Or did she? Harry had been talking about her for months, and more frequently of late. Then there was the Tiffany’s charge on his credit card. But even Hillary wouldn’t stoop that low—would she?

  At any rate, Kat had to focus on Harry. Unplugging the stove and disabling the garage door opener and the car battery were only temporary fixes. Harry needed full-time care, and Kat had run out of options. Hillary surely wouldn’t help. Suddenly it dawned on her—Hillary’s reappearance must be for a reason. Harry’s dementia was obvious—was Hillary here to take advantage of the situation? Why else had she returned after a decade?

  “You kidnapped Dad against his will. How can you live with yourself? You’re a criminal.”

  “How can you live with yourself, Hillary? You’re the criminal—you stole his and Aunt Elsie’s life savings.”

  “It was a gift.”

  Kat rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

  Harry stared at the floor, saying nothing.

  “You don’t understand, Hillary. Harry forgets to eat. He’s here because I take care of him. I wouldn’t leave him alone for a few days.”

  “Oh, I understand, alright. You kidnapped him to take advantage of him. I’m putting an end to that right now.”

  Harry must have been talking on the phone with Hillary last night. She must have called his cell phone. Harry wouldn’t remember the name of the resort, but he could still read. Hillary only had to ask him to find something with the Tides Resort name on it.

  “Kidnapped? Are you serious?” Kat glanced at Harry. He had zoned out, oblivious to the argument. “He wanted to come along.”

  “We’re finally all together again.” Harry smiled. “Let’s go for breakfast and celebrate.”

  Kat was just about to explain why they couldn’t when Hillary jumped in.

  “No, Dad. We’re leaving. Get your things.” Hillary pushed Harry back into the other room and slammed the door.

  Kat glanced at Jace, stunned. A wave of helplessness swept over her as she thought of Hillary taking Harry. Would Harry even survive the ride home before Hillary, with her short fuse, tired of him and dumped him on someone else? That is, if she was really taking him home.

  “Let her go.” Jace embraced her. “He’ll be all right. We’ll be home tomorrow.”

  “But she doesn’t know how bad he is.” Hillary was too self-centered to deal with his medications, delusions, and confusion.

  “I don’t believe that for a minute,” Jace said. “She knows exactly what’s going on.”

  “Then why is she saying those things?”

  “To get to you. And to divert anything negative from her onto you. To hide what’s really been happening.”

  Kat pulled away. “I know she’s selfish and I know she stole from him. But she can’t possibly think I’m harming him,” Kat said. “She doesn’t really mean it.”

  “C’mon, Kat, it’s all about her and getting what she wants. You of all people should recognize fraud when you see it. Those mysterious bank withdrawals, the Tiffany’s charges? Explain that.”

  “I thought about the Tiffany’s charges too. But isn’t that ... too obvious?”

  “A series of mistakes about Harry’s finances when she re-appears after ten years? Too much of a coincidence for me. Call her on it—I’m sure she’ll insist they were all gifts.”

  “You think she’s back because I cancelled those credit cards? Her supply was cut off?” Kat sat down on the bed. “She wouldn’t go to that extreme—it’s fraud and it’s elder abuse.”

  “Open your eyes, Kat. Harry doesn’t shop at Tiffany’s. Why do you think she’s back?”

  Jace was right. “But to steal from her own father?”

  “Most people wouldn’t,” Jace agreed. “But Hillary’s not most people. She’ll do whatever she can get away with.”

  “Jace, even if it’s true, there’s nothing left. I’ve cancelled the credit cards, and all his money went to pay the bills. There’s nothing left to steal.”

  Chapter 26

  Kat and Jace huddled in their warm parkas on the balcony and sipped their morning coffees. The sun had risen just over the horizon, and a burnt-orange glow peeked through the tall evergreens. Eerie light reflected off the fresh dusting of snow and contrasted with long shadows from the trees.

  Kat swallowed her last bite of French toast. Overnight her flu symptoms had passed, and she was surprised at how hungry she was. “Do you think Harry’s okay? Hillary’s got such a short fuse. His dementia’s going to frustrate her.”

  “She won’t stick around long once she finds the money’s gone. All Hillary cares about is Hillary.” Jace stood and peered over the railing. He motioned Kat to lean forward.

  Two security guards had just emerged from the hotel’s kitchen door below them. They talked in voices too low for Kat to make out the conversation.

  Kat first noticed the two beefy thirty-somethings outside the building this morning. They stood below on the frozen ground, securing the entrance. Every
few minutes they talked into their sleeves, apparently in radio contact.

  Security had materialized gradually at Hideaway Bay as the conference attendees arrived. Even in suits, the security men seemed more like army commandos. A stark contrast to the aging, overweight conference attendees they guarded.

  “There must be a dozen guys on this side of the hotel alone,” Jace whispered. “I’m going for a walk—a VIP must be arriving.”

  Kat held up her hand, not wanting to risk being overheard by the men below. But Jace was already inside, changing into his suit. Kat jumped up and followed him, sliding the patio door closed.

  “Do I really need to wear this suit the whole time I’m here?” Jace sat on the bed as he slipped his shoes on.

  “You can’t go out there, Jace.” Kat dropped her parka on the bed.

  “Why not? If I truly am the technical support, shouldn’t I be out there? The hotel staff must wonder why we haven’t left the room.” Jace came up and circled his arms around her waist. He pulled the curtains closed.

  Kat cupped her hands over his. “Can’t we just relax and enjoy the place? Once the conference starts, the security detail will relax a bit. Give them a few hours to settle in.” She felt anything but relaxed. Now that they were in, she didn’t want to do anything that would risk discovery.

  “You said yourself they’re not checking out anyone already inside.”

  Security had seemed strangely absent until now. After all, Hillary had managed to get in. Kat realized they were lucky to have arrived one day before the conference started. Otherwise, they might not have even made it up the driveway into the resort.

  “I’m more worried about you. That you might confront Pinslett or something. I need to close this case and meet Zachary’s deadline. Ideally before Edgewater runs out of money tomorrow or Tuesday. We can’t risk tipping off Nathan Barron. Don’t jeopardize my case, Jace.”

  Jace shook his head. “C’mon, Kat, give me some credit. Of course I won’t—but I also can’t pass up an opportunity of a lifetime. No journalist has ever been inside a World Institute conference before.”

  “Except Pinslett.”

  “He’s not a journalist. He just owns a stable of journalists. I want to expose him, make him pay.” He punched his fist into his hand.

  “Okay, you’re really not going out there. You’re too worked up. You’ll arouse suspicion and get us kicked out of here.”

  “You’re holding me prisoner? What if I miss something?”

  “Jace, you know what I mean. First things first. Let’s get proof of Nathan’s involvement. Once we have that, you can have a field day with Pinslett and the rest of them. I’ll even help you. The problem is, I can’t go into the conference. Almost all the delegates are men.”

  “And they’ll soon know I’m an imposter.”

  “Maybe—maybe not. At any rate, we need a way to get the proof that Nathan’s here and his involvement. Otherwise, short of videotaping, it’s still only our word against theirs.” She needed something more ironclad.

  “So what do we do?” he asked.

  Kat quickly dressed and stepped into a pair of running shoes.

  “I’ve got an idea.” She pushed her long hair under a baseball cap. “Give me fifteen minutes.”

  She opened the door to the hall and peered outside.

  Clear.

  She turned to the right, the direction she figured she was least likely to run into other guests. After following the corridor to its end, she doubled back to another hallway and peeked around the corner. A housekeeping cart was parked halfway between where she stood and the stairs.

  She strode towards the cart, head down in case she ran into anyone. She scanned the cart, momentarily tempted to pick up extra conditioner.

  All the hotel room doors were shut, which meant the housekeeper probably wasn’t in any of them. She turned the corner and saw the door marked Housekeeping. The door was slightly ajar, and she pushed it open. If she were discovered, she’d pretend to search for extra pillows.

  No one was inside. It didn’t take long to find what she was searching for. A housekeeper’s uniform hung on a hook behind the door. She grabbed it and quickly changed, stuffing her sweats and t-shirt into a laundry bag. She pulled the too-tight shirt sharply down to try and cover her stomach—no matter, she wouldn’t be in the hallway long.

  The hallway was still empty. She emerged and strolled towards the cart. She grabbed two bottles of conditioner just as something hard scraped against her hip. As she pulled it out of the pocket she couldn’t believe her luck. Not only did she have a housekeeper’s uniform, she now had a master key card to all the rooms in the resort.

  She turned and sped away, anxious to make it down the corridor without seeing anyone. She reached the elevator bank that divided the two building wings just as the elevator dinged. Then she heard a voice. A voice she’d know anywhere.

  Chapter 27

  Kat slammed to a stop, almost running into the wall. She fought the urge to turn around and head back the way she came. It was too late. She’d been spotted.

  Victoria Barron stood by the elevators and tapped her Gucci sandaled foot impatiently as she checked her watch. Her size 2 frame was enveloped in a thick cotton robe just like the ones in Kat’s room. Somehow it looked more glamorous on Victoria.

  “Don’t you dare walk away from me,” Victoria barked.

  Kat froze. She glanced down at her scuffed running shoes and wondered what was next. Why was Victoria here? The World Institute had booked the entire hotel, and Victoria wasn’t exactly delegate material.

  “Do not ignore me! I’m not going away, and I can get you fired in a heartbeat.”

  Kat slowly lifted her gaze to meet Victoria’s. Was it possible that Victoria didn’t recognize her in her housekeeper’s uniform?

  “You people never do more than the bare minimum.” Victoria pointed a manicured nail at Kat. The shade matched her lipstick exactly. “There’s too much dust in my room and not enough shampoo. Do you realize how lucky you are to work here? You’d never get a job like this in your own country, wherever that is. I’ll bet you’re not even legal.”

  Kat hadn’t even opened her mouth and Victoria already had her pegged as lazy, illegal, and incompetent.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Kat said in what she hoped would pass as the same Eastern European accent she’d used earlier. “I get you more shampoo. Your room number is?”

  “Room 216. I’m going to the spa.” The elevator doors opened and Victoria got in. “I expect shampoo in my room when I get back. Anything less is unacceptable.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The elevator doors closed. It was a relief to not be recognized, but also demeaning. After all, she had faced Victoria in court—even been her undoing. She fingered the master key card in her pocket. With Victoria gone, she might as well search her room. Maybe discover why she was here in the first place.

  Kat stood outside room 216 and knocked. No answer. She slid the key card into the reader. A flashing green light and a click greeted her. She opened the door and let it click shut behind her.

  The room was similar in layout to hers, but reversed. The curtains were drawn and two suitcases were stacked by the window. Even in the dim light, she saw clothes strewn everywhere: on the floor, on the unmade bed, and folded over the armoire doors and ironing board. How could Victoria have found dust? There were no bare surfaces for any to settle on.

  She walked over to the desk, almost tripping over a pile of high heels in the middle of the floor. Papers were strewn haphazardly across the surface of the desk. She switched on the lamp and quickly leafed through them. She couldn’t believe her luck. Below the hotel check-in information was an agenda for the World Institute meeting. She shoved it down the front of her uniform.

  Then she noticed the rest of the documents, a thick pile held together with a bulldog clip. She flipped through the pages. On top was last year’s meeting minutes, followed by some financial statements and other papers.


  Was Victoria really a delegate? Hard to believe, but why else was she here? And why did she have a World Institute agenda? Kat pulled out the agenda and scanned it. No mention of Victoria as an attendee. She glanced at her watch. According to the agenda, the meeting started not tomorrow, but in thirty minutes. Victoria certainly wouldn’t be attending in her robe.

  Kat shoved the clipped papers into the folded towels under her arm.

  She jumped as the bathroom door clicked open. Men’s cologne and humid shower air wafted towards her. She quickly shoved the agenda down her top. Then she sneezed.

  “What the hell are you doing in my room?” Nathan Barron emerged from the bathroom. He was naked, except for a towel cinched around his waist. He was much smaller in real life than in his predator portraits. Of course, in the pictures, his trophies were dead mammals, not live people, so it was hard to get a sense of scale.

  Kat broke into a sweat. Nathan stood between her and the door, blocking her exit. Her throat tightened and her heart pounded in her chest as she scrambled to come up with an excuse for being in the room. Then she remembered: she had only met Nathan in pictures. He hadn’t been at Edgewater when she visited. He had never laid eyes on her and wouldn’t know who she was. And in her maid’s uniform, she had a perfectly plausible reason to be here.

  “I—I’m sorry, sir. I thought the room was empty. I was just checking the towels.”

  “Leave them on the bed.” He crossed his arms and stared her down.

  She couldn’t. Tucked into the towels were the papers she had just pinched off the desk. She tried to keep her voice calm. “These are dirty. Let me get you some fresh ones.”

  “Fine.” Nathan scowled as he turned. He stormed back into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him.

  Kat let out a sigh and realized she had been holding her breath. She wiped a thin sheen of sweat from her forehead and opened the door to the hallway. These surprise encounters were stressing her out.

  Nathan and Victoria had to be lovers. Why else would they share a room? Did Zachary know his ex-wife was having an affair with his father?