Three_Deception Love Murder

by K. J. McGillick

  “Stop right now. I can hear you are piecing a story together in your head. Before you start to plan the wedding, Eloise was here all night working with us. After she showed us the trust, we worked collectively to devise a plan. I’ll make this short so that you can get ready. In about two hours, give or take, we have an appointment with Judge Mason in his chambers before he takes the bench. Eloise has prepared a petition and order to invoke the terms of the trust granting you the powers provided in the document.

  “There is a freeport we need access to, and as trustee, you can gain us admittance. So, chop-chop! Get ready. We must be in his chambers before his court calendar and he’s making a special trip for us,” he said.

  Up and ready in a flash, I sat with my coffee. As predicted, the legal warriors arrived dressed for battle.

  “Coffee is ready, the Pillsbury cinnamon rolls are still warm, and I just iced the last one. You should all thank me for rescuing the rolls from Lucy. It was a hard-fought battle,” I said as I led them to the kitchen.

  But my grin disappeared quickly. They paraded through more like mourners who had arrived at the funeral home for the final viewing of the dearly departed than happy about executing the trust.

  I poured coffee. Jackson confiscated three rolls at once, prompting the evil eye from Eloise, and a smirk from Cillian.

  Cillian was the first to speak. “I have to give Eloise credit for moving us forward to where we stand right now. Her collecting and sifting information allowed us to fill in holes we had, enabling us to take a new path.”

  I looked at Eloise for confirmation, and she agreed with his statement.

  “The trust was a tremendous help. We worked all night and found White and Roselov’s trail started in the US and ended in Abu Dabi and Dubai. London is apparently the hub between the two,” Cillian remarked walking to the freezer for some ice to cool his coffee.

  “Okay, now I’m alarmed. You make it sound as if Jude is part of a Mafia, and we all know nothing good comes from the Mafia.” ,” I said pouring too much milk in my coffee which led to an overflow and quick mop-up.

  “Look, Em. These are evil soulless people with a global network and powerful tools at their disposal.” Eloise slapped the table, but no one jumped. “Until we sat and mapped out his holdings, we had no idea Jude was so involved. Well, maybe the US government did, but Abu Dabi and Dubai? We are talking mucho money. Secret money, Em.”

  “El, think you can dial the drama and shock tactics back a little?” Lifting my hand, I half dismissed her attempt to shake me.

  Slamming her palm on the table again got my attention. “Emma, where do the millions go? Sure, this is an impressive house, but consider what you know. That safe deposit box was probably his emergency running money if things went wrong. And, girl, things have gone wrong. After drugs and guns, art theft is the biggest criminal enterprise in the world. Tired of selling guns and drugs? Try art theft. Em, Jude has been helping some very sick people get their hands on heavy-duty artillery and weapons through his art schemes. You have to wake the hell up and help these guys find out how to cut the head off of the snake.”

  “What the hell are you talking about? Weapons and drugs? What do I know of Dubai except it’s an Arab party town mentioned in Sex In The City? Or was that Abu Dabi? And why should I have an inside track to the wealth of Abu Dabi’s citizens? Obviously, you have been up all night getting information from these guys, but the only information I have is Jude sells fake art and helps launder money. Well, Smurf in that television show Animal Kingdom launders money and she’s a thief, not a terrorist. So why are you yelling at me?” I was on the verge of tears.

  Cillian jumped in to calm the situation down. Eloise had already whipped herself into a frenzy, and there was no going back when she was in that state.

  “Em, it’s hard to understand because every day new pieces of information are being thrown at you. Last month you were living a normal life, and now you are in the middle of a criminal network. It’s damn scary. To bring you up to speed, we can say we traced your involvement on paper starting two years ago—”

  Cillian started to say but I cut him off.

  “Whoa. Time out. I am not involved in any scheme,” I protested and crossed my arms in an openly defensive position, because that’s how I felt.

  “Right, right. Let me rephrase. Again, the operative words are on paper. Two years ago, we can see where White and Roselov set the plan in motion to appropriate your name to use for their scheme. It appears White targeted you, seduced you, and ensnared you in his life for the use of your credentials,” Cillian said.

  “Wait. What? That’s crazy. Why? I’m nothing more than a faculty member, a nobody. How would he even know I was alive?” I returned.

  “Let him finish, Emma. This is complicated. We need you to understand all the facts before we appear before the judge. If the judge has questions, you need to have all the information and be ready to answer questions,” Jackson said sternly.

  “Okay, Sparky, that’s enough out of you. Emma is a sensitive person and has been through enough with that douche. Let’s give her some breathing space. If anyone gets to yell at her, it’s me. None of this is your fault, Emma. May I continue, Cillian?” she asked and waited for a response.

  “Be my guest,” he tossed back and relaxed.

  “No one knows how far back Jude’s involvement goes, or when they started building their team of significant players. But picture yourself as one of their starting lineups in the first string of players. We only have theories, and I’ll give you mine. I believe they needed someone who they could call their expert, to use your name to authenticate their stolen and forged paintings. Who found you, why, or how they found you? I don’t know, but it was Jude’s job to seduce you. He didn’t want any legal ties like marriage because when he didn’t need you any further, he couldn’t afford a messy public divorce. The domestic partnership gave your relationship credibility. He had access to you and your credentials,” she explained.

  Cillian now jumped in with his thoughts. “Once White realized he had you emotionally tied to him he decided to bring Sopia—or Jennifer, as he had introduced her—into play. Her job was to get to know you, study you, and transition to being you. She returned to Europe, had plastic surgery, dyed her hair, and obtained a dossier which turned her into you.

  “Six weeks later, he’d placed two assets under your name—the safe deposit box, and the freeport—both vital to their organization. Wait, let me clarify. They opened a safe deposit box, and a storage unit called a freeport in your name with fake credentials provided by Sopia. However, a little later it was transferred to White supposedly by you.”

  “What is a freeport and why would I want to own one?” I asked, now devastated and confused.

  “Look, it’s nothing to get your head confused with because you’ll be seeing it in person later today if all goes well. Think of it as a warehouse where people store property to avoid paying duty and taxes. A temperature-regulated secure tax haven that sometimes is also used to secure illegal property. I am not going to get into the specifics, and the laws are changing so a long explanation would not help. We need to get in there to see what he has stored to round out our information. For our purpose, all you need to know is a freeport is a legal tax shelter. It’s speculation he used it for illegal purposes until we search the place,” Cillian continued.

  “Wait, Emma. I see your engines revving. Before you start shooting questions, I can only speculate right now on the extent of the operation. Pieces are continuously added to the equation, like the freeport, and allow us to put the puzzle together. A lot of times the way we solve a case is to start with a massive amount of what-ifs. Remember these assumptions are from Jackson and me what-ifing all night. We think White and Sopia worked as a team. But we don’t have enough information to determine if she was helping him skim money, or if that box was their running money. Or was that box part of the network money and she was just storing the network’s money? We don
’t know. The only thing we can say with confidence is the money was there and we know who put it there,” Cillian said standing to pour a second cup of coffee.

  “Okay, I’ve got that. Now, why would Jude create the trust? And what’s in the trust?” I asked.

  All three looked at each other, and it was Cillian who spoke.

  “This is a bitter pill to swallow considering the scenarios we came up with. What we are giving you is the worst-case scenario and total conjecture. So here it is. The more places people who saw Sopia as you, the more they accepted her as you. Eventually, you would be disposable and she would be you,” Cillian said as his hand inched toward mine to touch it.

  I pulled back as if bitten by a snake. I pushed the chair back so hard as I stood it fell over and clattered to the floor. “You are telling me Jude was planning to kill me, have Sopia step into my shoes and live my life? And the reason for the trust was if anything happened to him, she’d be able to safeguard everything by posing as me? Either because she was able to while I was still alive or more likely dead?”

  It was Jackson who came and steadied me by the shoulder and turned us toward the living room. This was too much. This was a James Patterson novel on steroids. He sat next to me, holding me against him for comfort, and I let him. I wanted to fade into a catatonic state and make believe this never happened. Make believe that Jude and I were happy. Make believe our future involved marriage and children who I would dote over. But I quickly came back to the world which was my reality, and I needed to get ready to suit up and fight for my life.

  Cillian spoke again. “We don’t know all the answers. We don’t know why Sopia was killed or by whom. The fact is she is dead. Was the real Emma the target, or Sopia? We are still gathering facts. It’s all still part of our what-ifs.”

  “Oh my God, how could this be? All I did was open myself up to a person who acted as if his world would end without me. While apparently, he was thinking how my world could end to his benefit.” My chest heaved, and my head pounded. I was sure vomiting was soon to follow.

  “We are going to keep you safe. Until we finish this case and these bastards are either dead or in jail, we will be with you,” Cillian announced.

  “We have discussed this with our bosses, and we need your input to determine if you have any objection to our plan. We need you guarded and safe and have two options. I think we should move you to a safe house. Cillian thinks we move in here until school ends and watch to see if Jude or one of his group returns under cover of darkness. In the end, you might need to move under the US Marshals’ protection,” Jackson said matter-of-factly.

  “You mean like witness protection?” I was bewildered.

  “If it comes to that, yes, but we don’t think it will. They have lost two vital team members, Diana and Sopia. White may not be dead, but we know he is indefinitely unavailable. We confiscated the funds in the safe deposit box putting a financial dent in his plans. And from what Roselov says he is on the run from people who think he has their valuable art and their money. My opinion is this network will more than likely cut their losses and move on. Start all over somewhere with a new scam,” Cillian said, but his face said something different and his body language was tight.

  “But am I not a loose end? In their eyes, don’t I know too much?” I asked.

  “You know no more than we know, probably less.” Again his reassurance did not inspire comfort.

  “Time to buckle up and get down to brass tacks. We need your help. The trust gives you access to places that will help us gather information. Without it we might not be able to move forward and could get caught in a long drawn-out legal battle,” Jackson said as cinnamon roll number four found its way to his mouth.

  “How do you think I can help?” I asked.

  Eloise answered, “We need you to convince the judge that Jude would not voluntarily disappear without a trace. And based on the burned car and Sopia’s death you believe something has happened to him. The judge has already read my petition, and we need your testimony as the trustee to corroborate the facts. Then he can weigh the evidence and sign an order invoking the terms of the trust. Once the terms of the trust are triggered, Jackson and Cillian will accompany us to the property in Philly. You will give your consent as the trustee to let them search without a search warrant. Look, it’s easy. All you need to do is say yes to the search. Without the trust, it might take them weeks to jump through legal hoops and in the end the application for a search warrant might also be denied.”

  “It’s legal, this trust?” I asked thinking this was just too easy.

  “It’s legal,” Eloise assured me. “He was an idiot to put this together, but he probably thought his little partner would be in place if she needed to invoke it. Shit for brains should have taken the original with him and not left anything with me. Not even a copy. But he didn’t take it and now karma is laughing her ass off at him.”

  “Then let’s go,” I said. After all, what more did I need than karma on my side?

  Jackson slammed the couch arm with his palm and declared, “That’s what I wanted to hear! Emma, you rule.”

  “Jackson, I don’t rule. I am scared out of my mind. But what is the alternative? I can hang around and wait for them to hunt me down and take me out. Or I can bring the fight to them. What’s the plan?” I was ready to get this done.

  “We go in front of the judge in about forty minutes. Then we are on a plane to the freeport located in Philly. The place opens at nine a.m. We enter and search,” Jackson said like it was another day at the office.

  “What about class?” I said.

  “I’ve got it covered. Everyone received an email with a link to a webinar and were given an assignment to turn in before next class,” Cillian said ever the planner. “If you’re on board with us moving in temporarily, I can arrange for some of our clothes to be brought over from the loft. I’ll take Mary’s room, and Jackson can use the other extra room.”

  “What about Roselov? Is he still here?” I prayed the answer was no.

  “Yes, and we have an eye on him. Trust us?” he asked.

  At this point, it would serve me well to trust no one. But what choice did I have? Betrayal, deception, secrecy . . . they were all malignant to a relationship and had been part of Cillian’s cover, but now I was asked to blindly trust.

  “I do. Tell me what I need to do to help end this nightmare,” I said. “Let’s cut that head off and get it done.”

  “Em, I am proud of you. You are amazing. I have known you for fifteen years, and you have always been the peacekeeper and the one to shrink away from conflict at all costs. Even taking the blame when it wasn’t justified to maintain a calm atmosphere. Now look at you. You are a warrior. When we come back home, tequila for everyone!” Eloise yelled as she did an embarrassing happy dance.

  “Jesus, just what we need. Eloise and booze. And what do you mean we?” Jackson asked as he grabbed his keys.

  “As Emma’s legal counsel, I need to be present if any legal questions or issues arise,” she said. Yeah, she wasn’t missing out on this drama.

  “Um, Eloise. You do recall Cillian and I are both attorneys, right? We don’t need your kind of crazy along for the ride,” Jackson announced emphatically. “Any legal questions we have covered.”

  Before World War III started I interceded, “Eloise is on board. End of discussion.” I owed her some drama therapy for all she had been through with me.

  “Come on, boys, let’s rock-n-roll,” Eloise said and stood up, flashed the devil horns sign, and snatched her briefcase ready to leave. Cillian and Jackson gave up without a further struggle.

  “I’m driving,” Jackson said.

  “I call shotgun,” Eloise yelled

  “Christ, is it too early to down a shot?” Jackson asked.

  The response was a maniacal laugh from Eloise.

  Emma

  THE JUDGE SIGNED THE ORDER Eloise presented to him without me even having to offer testimony and we were off t
o the airport.

  The anxiety that cloaked our group as we flew into Philly was palpable. Anger bubbled up inside of me and left me unable to concentrate on the surrounding conversations. I strained to appear attentive as Eloise spoke, but quickly became lost in my dark thoughts.

  Sadness slid over me, and morose thoughts took over. What a weird predicament. On the one hand, I could not grieve the loss of Jude because I did not know if he was alive or dead. On the other hand, if he was dead who was the Jude I should mourn? The alluring romantic I so easily fell in love with was no more than a sociopath who plotted my death. My soul felt as if a tornado tore through it leaving scattered broken fragments. No foundation remained, everything I held dear was gone.

  I could tell by the way Cillian licked his lips and rubbed his hands together he was upset, but he was trying to hide it for my sake. The free shuttle to the freeport came quickly and forty-five minutes later left us at the entrance of an enormous white stone fortress without windows.

  Eloise frowned and looked around the lot surrounded by a prickly barbed wire fence and raised her eyebrows in surprise at the surroundings. My thoughts exactly. What was this place? There was nothing artistic or inviting about this building. As I walked closer to two massive steel doors, my mind screamed at me to turn around and refuse to enter, but before I could run, the door clicked open. I felt a hollowness in my chest as I entered the stark building. To steady my nerves, I counted the clicks of my heels striking the concrete as we walked the long hall to the director’s office.

  Jackson and Cillian met with the director while Eloise and I sat in the waiting area nervous to verbalize our thoughts. Our waiting time to start the search was short as the FBI central office already forwarded the proper documentation authorizing entry to Jude’s collection and cleared our way.

  As the trustee, I was now responsible for the room. I offered identification, a digital thumbprint, and signature for the director’s file. Eloise witnessed my signature, signed the register, and received a yellow visitor badge. For all legal purposes, I now stood in Jude’s place as the owner of the room and its contents. For that I received a red badge and key card.