by Holly Rayner
Clay’s free hand made a fist.
“We can find a way out of this together,” Clay said. “But I need the contracts to know what I’m dealing with.”
“You’re smarter than I am, Clay. You always have been. You can handle this without me or the contracts,” Dave said. “You’ll probably get leniency for your willingness to cooperate.”
“Leniency,” Clay repeated. “I don’t want leniency. I want to prove that this was all a mistake.”
No response from Dave.
“Wire the money back to me,” Clay said.
“I can’t do it, Clay,” Dave said. “I feel bad about it, I really do. But I need the money. I’m starting over here. You and I both know that you aren’t hard up for money. You’re going to be fine.”
“You’ve set me up to go to jail and taken my money,” Clay said. “And you’re fine with that?”
“I’m not fine with any of this,” Dave said. “I’m not happy about it. Believe me.”
“Then come home. We’ll deal with it together. It’s not going to be as bad as you’re thinking.” Clay softened his tone. “I’ll get a lawyer to represent both of us. We’ll be okay. But I need you here to testify. I need the evidence you have. Your running away like this makes me look so much more guilty. Don’t you see that?”
“If I come back,” Dave said, “I’ll be arrested. There’s no way they’re going to let me take a walk.”
“So you’re just going to let me take the fall for you.” Clay felt gutted. He had been living with the knowledge that someone he’d considered a friend had abandoned him for four months now, and yet it had never felt as real as it did in this moment. “I can’t believe you would do this.”
“We both know it’s not going to be the same for you as it would be for me,” Dave said, his voice calm and quiet. He sounded as if he thought he was the rational one in this discussion, which was insane. “You’re not going to be punished near as harshly as I would have been, because you weren’t actively involved in the deals.”
“It was all a mistake, Dave. The lawyer will be able to prove that the real estate agent lied to you,” Clay said. “If you were here, you could testify to it.”
Dave was quiet.
“You don’t care what happens to me, do you?” Clay asked heavily. “You don’t care what kind of trouble this lands me in, as long as you don’t have to face any consequences.”
“It’s not like that, Clay,” Dave said.
“I wouldn’t let you go to jail,” Clay said. “I would loan you the money if we had the option to pay a fine. I would get us off the hook.”
“I’ve told you I’m sorry,” Dave said. “And I am sorry, Clay. Really. I wish it hadn’t happened this way. But I’m not willing to go to jail. You’re going to be fine.”
The line went dead.
Clay slowly lowered the phone, unable to believe what he had heard.
He had held out hope that, if he was able to get in touch with Dave, he would be able to reason with him. He had been certain that at the very least Dave would be willing to send the contracts back so that Clay would have a shot at constructing some kind of defense for himself.
This just keeps getting worse and worse. What am I going to do now?
The first step was to get rid of the phone. He broke it open, removed the SIM card from the back, and snapped it in half. Then he threw the pieces, and the phone case itself, in the trash. It was a bit extreme, but he didn’t want that worthless phone call to be the thing that took him down. Better to be safe than sorry.
He buried his head in his hands. I’m far too trusting. How did I let it come to this?
He wondered whether he would ever be able to trust anyone again.
Chapter 14
Gwen
“I think I’ve got him,” Finn announced.
Gwen’s heart leapt into her throat. She got up and crossed the room to Finn’s workstation, leaning over his shoulder. “David Fischer?” she asked.
“It says he lives in Amarillo,” Finn said. He pulled up a map of Texas and pointed it out. “That’s in the Panhandle. He’s about the right age to be a friend of Clay’s. Now, I can’t find any connections to anyone named Clay in his past. But look at this.” He pointed to another item on the screen. “It looks like Fisher recently opened an offshore bank account, which strikes me as the kind of thing you would do if you were starting a new business that you expected to be profitable.”
“That’s kind of shady.” Gwen pulled up a chair. “Why not open a bank account here in the U.S.?”
“He might just be a kind of shady guy,” Finn said, glancing up at her, an expression of concern etched across his face. “I mean…I don’t want to freak you out, Gwen, but there are some things here that don’t add up to the prettiest picture.”
“What do you mean?” Gwen asked nervously. “He’s not wanted for something, is he?”
“Not that I can see,” Finn said. “But it looks like he purchased a lot of property on the outskirts of Amarillo. Residential stuff.”
“Is he a land developer?” Mike asked, making his way over.
“Doesn’t look that way,” Finn said. “The properties he bought are individual homes, and they’re not contiguous.”
“He’s probably flipping them,” Gwen said. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Not necessarily,” Finn said. “Except that the properties were never sold. And a couple of months ago, Fischer just…disappears.”
“What do you mean, he disappears?”
“I mean there’s no trace of him,” Finn said. “These are his phone numbers, and it looks like he stopped making calls all of a sudden. His bills start going unpaid—looks like his electricity and water have been shut off. And his landlord has started eviction proceedings, but he’s not responding to that. There’s no sign of his credit cards being used—though it looks like he made a massive cash withdrawal right before his disappearance, see?”
“That looks like someone who went missing on purpose,” Mike noted. “Someone who planned to disappear.”
Finn nodded. “That’s what I thought too,” he said. “And in my experience, people don’t plan to disappear for benign reasons. Something is up with this guy.”
Gwen felt sick. “Where’s the offshore account?” she asked.
“You can’t be thinking of confronting this guy,” Finn said. “He could be dangerous.”
“I’m a police officer,” Gwen pointed out.
“You’re also pregnant.”
“I’m trained for confrontation. I know how to do this without allowing it to escalate. Don’t start treating me like I’m made of glass, Finn. You’ve never done that.” She leaned over and studied the screen. “The account is in Nevis?”
“Yeah, the Caribbean island,” Finn said.
“Do you think that’s where he went?” Mike asked.
“Well, it’s not what I would have done,” Gwen said. “It’s easily traceable. But you never know. Maybe this guy isn’t so bright.”
Gwen was able to purchase a last-minute ticket to the city of Basseterre on the island of St. Kitts, the closest neighbor to Nevis. From there, it was a simple matter of taking a boat to Nevis. The ride was only an hour long, and she spent the whole time on the deck breathing in the scent of the ocean and thinking about the time she had spent in the Bahamas with Clay.
It felt appropriate, somehow, that she was closer to finding him here in the Caribbean than she ever had been before.
The boat pulled into the dock in Charlestown, Nevis. There was a visitor center on the shore, a tiny wooden hut, and Gwen stopped and picked up a map of the island. It showed where the few residential streets were, and all the businesses as well.
She also showed the man running the center a photo of David Fischer. “Have you seen this man?” she asked. “I think he’s living on the island.”
The man’s eyes narrowed. “What if I have?”
“I’m a police officer,” Gwen answered.
“I’m looking for him.”
“He commit a crime?”
“You tell me.”
The man hesitated, then pointed to a building that looked as though it might be a bar. “He drinks in there sometimes,” he said. “Might be there today. I don’t know. If you find him, you never met me.”
Gwen nodded. “No reason he needs to know who I spoke to.”
She crossed the plaza and went into the bar. Fans spun lazily overhead, and the floor was sticky with alcohol and condensation.
She was about to approach the bartender, to ask him whether he had seen Fischer, when her eye was caught by a man in a pale pink T-shirt and Bermuda shorts at the end of the bar.
Oh, my God. That’s him!
She couldn’t believe it. She had never expected to find him so quickly. And yet, here he was, staring up at the soccer game on the TV behind the bar, fully unaware of the fact that he was about to be confronted.
I’m glad I get to do this in public. That would be safer.
She approached him, hand dangling near the concealed weapon in her pocket. She very much did not want this encounter to turn violent, but she would defend herself—and her baby—if it came to that.
“David Fischer?” she asked.
“Who wants to know?” He didn’t look away from the TV.
“Gwen Carrington,” she said. “Police.”
Now he looked at her. He had a look in his eyes that she recognized all too well. It was the look of a guilty man who was preparing to lie.
“My name’s Harris,” he said.
“Uh-huh.” She pulled out her photo again. “This you, Mr. ‘Harris’?”
His defeat registered swiftly on his face. “What do you want?” he asked churlishly. “You can’t arrest me if you’re a U.S. cop. I know my rights.”
She wasn’t sure he did, but it was beside the point. “I’m not here to arrest you,” she said.
“Why are you here?”
“Can we go somewhere and talk?”
“I’m not taking you to my house.”
“I don’t want to go to your house. I want to go somewhere we can hear each other. How about the bench outside on the pier?”
He glanced toward the door.
“Mr. Fischer, do you doubt that I can take you down if I need to?”
He sized her up.
She pulled the butt of her gun out of her pocket, just far enough that he would be able to see it. He didn’t need to know that she had no intention of using it if he tried to flee.
He swallowed. “Yes, ma’am. I mean, no, ma’am.”
Satisfied, Gwen gestured to the door with her head. “Outside, then. Let’s talk.”
She followed him outside and steered him to the bench she’d had in mind. He sat down, looking hopelessly skittish, and Gwen almost pitied him for a moment. If he was about to be arrested, he would have incriminated himself in a heartbeat. She knew his type all too well.
“Relax, Mr. Fischer,” she said. “You’re not in any trouble.”
“Why are the police looking for me if I’m not in trouble?” he demanded.
“Do you have some reason to think you’d be in trouble?”
“You’re not going to trick me into telling you anything,” he said. “I know you already know about the illegal real estate deals. I can tell. I’m not going to give you any of the details.”
She nodded, careful not to give away the fact that he had already told her more than she’d known before she’d gotten here. So the real estate deals were illegal. That’s interesting. She filed that information away for later.
“You were involved in those investments with a friend of yours, weren’t you?” she asked.
“Clay Murray. But he isn’t here. I don’t know where he is. Probably back in Texas.” Fischer looked up, and she saw a spark of hope in his eyes. “I’ll give you anything you want on him.”
Even as she felt slightly sickened by how willing this guy was to roll over on his friend, Gwen couldn’t help feeling a spark of triumph as well. Murray. Now she had his name. Clay Murray. And he was probably back in Texas.
There was a part of her that wanted to get up and go back down to the boat dock right then, to forget all about this guy. She had what she’d wanted.
But maybe she could get something more.
“I need to get in touch with Mr. Murray,” she said. “I need his address or his phone number. Whatever you can give me.”
“Are you going to arrest him?” Fischer looked upset at the idea.
“I’m just going to talk to him,” Gwen said.
“I don’t want him arrested,” Fischer said. “He…” He took a deep breath, then went on. “He didn’t know what was going on with those properties. Neither of us did. We were tricked.”
Gwen closed her eyes. Fischer had proven that he was willing to cooperate. She saw no reason to continue upsetting him.
“I’m not here to investigate any illegal property deals,” she said. “I’m New Orleans police. Any crimes committed in Texas are outside my jurisdiction.”
“Then why are you here?” Fischer asked. “What do you want with Clay?”
Perhaps honesty was the best policy here. Perhaps he would be more willing to help her out if he knew the truth.
And if not, he’s already given me Clay’s name. I’m already much better off than I was when I came to Nevis.
“Clay is the father of my child,” she admitted, resting a hand on her stomach.
Fischer’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding.”
“I’m not,” she said. “We met over the holidays.”
“When he was in the Bahamas?”
“That’s right. We didn’t exchange contact information. We didn’t plan on seeing each other again. But now…well, things have changed.”
“And you came all the way down to Nevis to find me so that you could get his address?”
“You weren’t very hard to find, by the way,” she said. “Not that this is any of my business. But once I had your name, it only took me a day to figure out where you were. I’m sure any police officer could do the same.”
“How did you get my name?” Fischer asked.
“It was in a hat,” she said. “I think you must have given it as a gift to Clay.”
“That’s right,” he said, realization dawning on his face. “I did do that. He gave that hat to you?”
“He forgot it at our hotel. I was going to try to get it back to him, if I ever saw him again.”
Fischer sighed. “He would want to know this,” he said, taking in her stomach, which was starting to really show. “Family’s important to Clay. He would want to know that he’s going to be a father.”
“I’m surprised you care what he wants,” Gwen said. “A few minutes ago, you were practically begging me to arrest him instead of you. And now you want to help him out?”
“Look, I know I’ve been a bad friend to Clay,” Fischer said. “It’s my fault he’s involved in this mess at all. He only wanted to flip a few houses. It was my job to do the research and make sure everything was aboveboard, and I messed it up. I can’t go to jail for him, but of course I want to help him out as much as I can.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I’ll give you the address. But do you promise you’re not going to make trouble for him?”
Gwen pulled out her badge and showed it to him. “See?” she said. “NOPD. I don’t have the authority to arrest Clay, even if I wanted to. And real estate crime isn’t my area anyway.”
Fischer looked hesitant.
“You already told me his last name,” Gwen said. “I’m going to be able to find him either way now. You’d really just be helping me get there faster.”
Fischer groaned. “Fine,” he said. “Do you have a piece of paper?”
Gwen pulled a pad of notepaper and a pen out of her purse and handed it to him. He scribbled something down and passed it back.
She looked at it. It was a rural address in Texas.
“That’s Clay’
s ranch,” he said. “Assuming that’s still where he is, I mean. I haven’t seen him in months. But he really loved that place, so it’s hard for me to imagine that he would have left.”
Gwen nodded. “Thank you,” she said. “I appreciate your help.”
“I was really that easy for you to find?” he asked. “What gave me away?”
She shook her head. “I’m not in the business of helping people flee from justice.”
“I helped you,” he pointed out.
“That’s not the same thing and you know it.”
“Just point me in the right direction.”
“Financial transactions are easy to trace,” she said. “That’s all I’m going to say.”
By the bewildered look on his face, she suspected he hadn’t gotten much help from that. But that would have to be his problem. Gwen had gotten what she needed, and now she was ready to head home.
She went back out to the boat dock. The next ferry to Basseterre wasn’t arriving for another forty minutes, so she sat on the edge of the dock and looked out at the water, thinking about Clay and about what would happen when she found him.
It had been easy to face Fischer. She didn’t care about him. But facing Clay would be much harder. For the past few months, she had allowed her worries about how he might react to her pregnancy to take a back seat to her worries over whether or not she would even be able to find him. But now that she had an address, all her concern came rushing to the forefront.
What if he didn’t want to see her? What if he didn’t want this baby?
Focus on your next steps. Don’t look too far into the future.
Her next step was to get on this boat and go back to the airport. To fly back to Louisiana.
Then she would make the trip to Texas. She would tell Clay the truth at last.
How he reacted would be up to him.