Impulse Spy (Sonic Sleuths Series)

by Carrie Ann Knox

  Richard visibly fought acceptance of the situation. He glared between all of us, his breath heavy. The awkward moment must have felt like an eternity to the floundering fraud. Finally he seemed to grasp his reality and sank back to his chair, looking dazed.

  Walter continued. “Your gambling problem? Is that why you would sell your own brother out—to get yourself out of debt?”

  Richard shook his head, coming back to life. He looked at his brother earnestly. “I would’ve found a way to get you back in. I . . . I was desperate. They were going to take everything. I would’ve jeopardized the firm anyway. This way I could stay involved, I was assured I would have a place at the new firm. And I wanted to try to bring you on, after everything settled down.”

  “So let me get this straight,” Walter said, taking his time. “You admit that you did in fact set me up. Tried to get evidence of unseemly conduct, as you put it, by any means necessary, in order to get me kicked off the board. All so you could sell out and let Carolyn Evans take over the firm. And it sounds like you would walk away with a job and your debt paid off, while we’re out in the cold. Do I have that all correct?”

  Richard was seeming very nervous by now. “But like I said, I was going to try to take care of you. You have to believe me.”

  Walter stared at his brother with a coldness I would never have thought possible from such an amiable man. “Brother, I’m never going to believe anything you say again.”

  Richard returned the gaze, disbelief morphing into an understanding of his situation. His eyes settled on the desktop, wheels turning. When he looked up again, his expression had turned hopeful.

  “But luckily it’s not too late,” he stammered. “I’ll . . . I’ll cancel the meeting right now. Just forget everything. I was stupid and selfish and I know you hate me. Rightfully so. But I’ll make it up to you. I’ll do anything. I’ll even get help for my problem if you want. I know I have a problem.” Richard looked almost repentant. “And maybe in time, you’ll forgive me.”

  “Actually, there’s no need to cancel the meeting.” Walter’s icy demeanor did not falter. “What if I told you you just admitted everything to the entire board? That they just heard every word—every sordid little detail?”

  The remaining color drained from Richard’s red face. He gaped in horror at his brother. “You set me up? How could you—I could lose everything! How could you do this?”

  Walter’s only response was a continued calm repose. Richard stared for another moment, grasping his fate, before he decided to flee. He had his hand on the doorknob when his brother finally spoke again.

  “Actually, now I’m the liar,” Walter said to the room, his back to Richard.

  Richard paused, considering the words. He looked back at his brother.

  “Well, I only proposed a hypothetical. So not technically a lie. But you should know the board was not listening. They don’t know anything. Yet.”

  Relief instantly washed over Richard, turning quickly to confusion. Timid, he returned to his side of the desk, approaching Walter as though nearing a wild animal.

  “See, there’s just one more thing we haven’t cleared up yet,” Walter continued. “Carolyn’s husband, Carter. How does he play into all this?”

  Richard scoffed. “He doesn’t. Absolutely nothing to do with any of it.”

  Walter raised his voice for the first time. “Enough!”

  Richard shrank back, clearly surprised to see his normally docile brother so heated.

  Walter regained his composure. “Here’s the situation. We hold your future in our hands right now. I could’ve had the board listening in on all of this. Ruined you on the spot. There’s probably a few laws you’ve broken in there as well. But I want to give you one last chance to fess up. Did you or did you not have anything to do with Carter Evans’ death?”

  “No,” Richard replied, emphatic.

  “Ok. But you should know that we have evidence suggesting otherwise. Payoffs clearly linking you to the young drug dealer who was the last to see Carter alive.”

  Richard stiffened.

  “But there are a few links in that chain. So maybe you weren’t responsible—but you know something about it?”

  Clearly uncomfortable but resolute, Richard gazed back without a word.

  “I’m really going to need more, Richard. Or we’ll be forced to share everything we know with the authorities. Let them sort it out.”

  Finally grasping the situation, Richard’s eyes went wide and began darting around the room wildly. I was afraid he might’ve stopped breathing. Finally his panic seemed to settle as he appeared to come to a decision. He took a deep breath and looked his brother in the eye, solemn.

  “I swear I didn’t set up Carter’s death. I swear on my son’s life. But I’m pretty sure I know who did.”

  Twenty-Four

  I knew I was supposed to play it cool, to look like we’ve been expecting such confessions all along. But I was stunned. Some truly underhanded things really had gone on, many things, and we’d successfully uncovered them. And the ugliness was only going deeper.

  Richard held up his hands in a ‘hold-up’ gesture. “What I mean is—if someone had anything to do with his death, then I may know who. But I don’t know for sure that anyone did. I don’t want to know.”

  “Okay. We’re listening. Tell us what you do know.”

  Richard glared back, his vulnerability seeming to dissipate. He stood from his chair, towering over his brother. “And if I do, my ‘indiscretions’ will be kept under wraps?”

  “I’ll tell you what.” Walter did not appear intimidated by his brother’s renewed confidence. “You tell us everything you know. Everything. And I’ll keep your attempts to ruin me and the firm to myself. Any other crimes you may admit to, well, I’ll have to decide as we go. But you’ll step down from the board. Effective immediately.”

  Richard took a deep breath, his glare intensifying. But he didn’t try to argue.

  “And if we find out you’ve lied about any of this, everything is fair game. It’s all coming out.”

  Richard shut his eyes for a moment, processing his situation. When he reopened them, he looked defeated. The fight had gone out of his eyes. “My actions may have helped lead to his death. I’m not certain. But it certainly wasn’t on purpose.”

  Richard sat heavily back in his chair. “It was my idea, in part. Carter showed back up and was threatening to shut us down, shut the entire deal down. We were so close. So I simply suggested Carolyn could ‘accidentally’ derail his sobriety. It would’ve happened anyway. Just help him along a little. If he used again, there’d be no way he could make decisions for his company again. We could do what we needed to do.”

  Walter’s voice was quiet, concerned. “So you planned for him to overdose?”

  “Of course not. She was just supposed to get some of his favorite stuff, and leave it where he could find it. She was convinced he would give in and start using again. Then she could have the company call for a drug test and bust him. At the very least, she could plant it on him. If the firm even thought he was using, it could buy us enough time.”

  Walter’s prodding was gentle. “So what happened?”

  Richard shook his head. “That’s all I know. All I did was make the connection. I don’t touch the stuff, but I know people . . . that know people.” He shrugged. “I put her in touch. Whatever she did from there, I have no idea. I swear.”

  I had to know. “So your ‘people.’ Would that include Salvatore? Who you owe a lot of money to?”

  He smirked. “You guys really did do your homework. Yeah, he’s my guy. I happen to know he’s a well-rounded businessman, has his hands in a lot of pots. So I sent him a referral. That’s it.”

  Walter leaned forward, considering. “So when Carter turned up dead, didn’t you wonder what went wrong? Did you ever ask her what happened?”

  “None of my business. Asking questions like that, well, no good can come from it. I know a little ab
out getting mixed up with the wrong people. You keep your head down and eyes forward. Let ‘em do whatever they’re gonna do.” Richard glanced at each of us, looking sincere. “But whatever our differences, I liked the guy. I wouldn’t have wanted to do him any real harm. I’m not a monster.”

  I didn’t know why, but I actually believed him this time. I was pretty sure Richard didn’t do anything to Carter. But where did that leave us?

  “So what I’m hearing,” Sloan mused out loud, “is that you played matchmaker for a drug deal that turned into an overdose. An overdose that may have been accidental—but given the motivations here, it could’ve been intentional. So how do we figure out which?”

  Richard scoffed. “What are you going to do, go ask them nicely? If I were you, I’d just let it go. What’s done is done.”

  “Sorry, I don’t work that way.” Sloan’s smile was cold.

  I jumped in the mix. “Maybe we should just take what we know to the police. Surely we can keep Richard’s name out of it?”

  “That’s not our agreement,” Richard fumed.

  Sloan held up a hand to calm him. “Don’t worry, that’s not the play. The problem is she would just lawyer up immediately. A woman with means like that—they’d never get anywhere. Our only chance is before she has any idea anyone is on to her.”

  She paused for a moment, considering, before her face lit up. “Although there is someone who could be on to her.” She turned to Walter. “I have an idea for how to get the story out of Carolyn, so we can finally settle this once and for all. But we’re going to need the support of everyone in this room.” She raised an eyebrow but avoided looking in Richard’s direction.

  Walter got the hint. “Oh, Richard. We’re going to need your help.”

  “Forget it,” he retorted. “I kept my end of the bargain, I told you what I know. That’s everything. And I’m off the hook.”

  “You’re right, you are off the hook. With the firm. But what about all that money you owe your friend Salvatore—are you off the hook on that? How are you going to keep him happy without a job?”

  The smugness melted from Richard’s face, replaced by another dazed expression. It appeared he hadn’t thought that far ahead yet. And I bet the road looked awfully bleak. After a moment he met his brother’s gaze again, contrite. “So what are you proposing?”

  Walter glanced at both of us, considering. I was curious myself. He took a deep breath and turned back to Richard.

  “Well, unlike you, I actually care if your life is ruined.”

  Richard’s eyes immediately lowered. He looked vaguely ill.

  “But I really want to get this whole thing settled. To do that, we’re going to need the rest of the story. So, you assist these ladies with whatever they need to get that story. And I’ll bail you out.”

  Richard’s eyes peeked back up at his brother.

  Walter appeared to be coming up with a plan as he spoke. “Not only will I keep your secret plan from the board, but I’ll pay off your gambling debt. The last thing we need threatening the firm is some criminal enterprise. Then myself and the rest of the board will quietly buy out your stake. You can use that to have a nice, peaceful early retirement. Assuming you get your problem under wraps, you should be quite comfortable. But I won’t bail you out again.”

  Richard looked a mixture of relieved and suspicious. “But after all that, why would you do that for me?”

  Walter sighed. “Because you’re still my brother. And I’m not going to let you be threatened by gangsters. But I’m afraid we won’t have much of a relationship going forward. This will likely be it for us.”

  I felt the weight of the loss between them as they sat in silence. I couldn’t imagine that level of betrayal—or guilt. Their locked eyes held opposing strains of pain. Finally Richard’s broke away just as welling tears threatened to escape. He blinked them back and looked up at me and Sloan, his face drooping with resignation.

  “What do you need me to do?”

  Twenty-Five

  Useful vandalism, she’d called it. I just hoped someone else wouldn’t call it a felony. I pushed the hood of my sweatshirt down away from my face, glad to have the task over with. We had made our escape seemingly unnoticed, and I felt my shoulders relax a little more the further we got from the parking lot of Quandom. I had to admit, that too was a little fun.

  I turned to Sloan at the wheel. She looked calm and content, as usual, a small smile hinting at her mutual enjoyment.

  “So you really think that’s sufficient to put the scare into Carolyn Evans?”

  She shrugged. “I’d be pretty freaked, wouldn’t you?”

  I considered and nodded with agreement. We had done quite a number on her car. Nothing permanent, of course. Just a little fake blood and creepy drawings of headstones on her Mercedes as it sat in the mostly empty lot. I’m not much of an artist. But all perfectly washable. No harm done—except psychologically. We hoped, anyway.

  Sloan had taken care of the preliminary assaults. First, an anonymous letter suggesting someone knew what she had done—leaving the details vague to allow room for interpretation. With a hint that a future ransom would suffice for shutting them up. Followed by several eerie phone calls from a burner involving nothing but heavy breathing. I got a little weirded out just thinking about it, and I got to be one of the heavy breathers. I did feel pretty confident we had laid enough groundwork. The car should push Carolyn over the edge.

  “I trust you not to get me arrested, you know,” I said. “I’m not sure my work would appreciate vandalism on my record.”

  “I know, I know. Speaking of your job, is Grant still bothering you?”

  I shrugged. “I definitely dread him every day, but I’m kind of getting used to it. It’s just his way, I guess. He did have a difficult time for a while there. Why?”

  “Well . . . about that. So his big backstory is that he was arrested as a teenager, dropped out of high school and ended up homeless for a while, right?”

  I nodded. “He’s implied he had to do questionable things during that time, but I haven’t asked for any more details. But supposedly he pulled himself together, got his GED, and did some college online before going full-time normal college student and making it to a top graduate school. I guess that is pretty remarkable.”

  A thought occurred to me. “But hold on. I don’t remember telling you about his backstory, only that he uses it.”

  “Yeah, that’s true. It was on his internship application. He wrote a lovely essay about it.”

  Oh, no. What had she been up to? “And exactly how do you know what is on his application?”

  Silence. Dismayed, I gave her my full attention. “Did you do a check on him?”

  Sloan shrugged. “It’s been slow during the day, while you’re at work. I have to stay entertained. No big deal.” She gave me a quick grin before returning her eyes to the road. “But I think you’ll be very interested to hear what I’ve learned.”

  I felt a little violated. This was my job, my coworker. But at the same time, now she had me curious as to what she had uncovered. I wavered for a moment. “Okay, fine. What did you find out?”

  “Well, your boy did get his GED, that’s true. But not because he had dropped out and was on the streets. It was because he was too busy cruising around the world. He was homeschooled. On his family’s yacht.”

  I think I stopped breathing for a second as I blinked at my companion. She can’t be serious. “Excuse me?”

  “Same with that online degree. Finally popped back into the states to finish off his bachelor’s on a real campus.”

  My mind whirled as I considered all the lies he’d told. “He made up—everything? But why would someone do something like that?”

  “Who is likely to be a more interesting a choice for an internship—or for a top grad school, for that matter. A hardworking came-from-the-bottom success story, or some ultra-rich guy with everything handed to him?”

  She had a point. But it w
as truly despicable.

  “A guy like that,” she continued, “he probably also did it just because he could. It has to get boring knowing you can just have whatever you want. Why not make yourself more interesting and entertain yourself at the same time?”

  Now it was just disturbing. “You’re able to think like a sociopath far too easily.”

  “Why, thank you.” She flashed me a quick grin. “He’s pretty clever, too. At least clever enough to restrict his imaginary criminal history to his teenage years. The records of minors are sealed. Anyway, what are you going to do about it? If you take him down, can I be there?”

  What was I going to do about it? On the one hand, I was secretly a little ecstatic to learn my rival had skeletons. Big skeletons. But on the other . . . how would I feel if I simply won by default? I wanted real accomplishments. And as much fun as taking him down would be, I wasn’t relishing being in this position. I sighed and shook my head.

  “I have no idea.” I focused my attention out the window, stewing in the dilemma.

  When we turned a familiar corner in an unexpected direction, I glanced at my partner-in-crime. “I thought we’re headed to Westbrook.”

  “We are. Just need to make a quick stop first.”

  A moment later we pulled into the parking lot of the diner. Sloan continued on to the side of the building before stopping.

  I wasn’t hungry after our adventures, and caffeine was the last thing I needed. “We’re going to Joe’s?”

  “Nope. Only be a sec.”

  Before I could question her further, Sloan hopped out and strolled to the wall of the building, digging into her jeans pocket. Then she reached out her arm and began swiping it across the surface of the brick. A white line appeared in her hand’s wake.

  She was drawing, with what looked like white chalk. I watched, dumbfounded, as a graffiti-like image materialized under her direction. Standard bubble-lettering, spelling out ‘DMB Forever’. She popped the chalk back in her pocket and hopped in the car, as though nothing had happened.