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Fraud: A Stepbrother Romance

Page 6

by Stephanie Brother


  I thought I saw a slight nod pass between them, but the chopper lurched slightly and I glanced out the window involuntarily.

  The ocean was dotted with small whitecaps, and a few boats plowed through the waves, leaving long, ragged white wakes behind.

  As we climbed, and the helicopter banked north, I wondered just what the hell I’d gotten myself into.

  *****

  “I am afraid that you have a poor impression of me, Ms. Greene,” said King.

  He was sitting in his seat, without the lap belt.

  I suppose one can do whatever one wants in their own private aircraft, but it seemed reckless.

  There is always the danger of turbulence, when flying.

  King sat there, his gin and tonic having been replaced with a bourbon. Another stinking cigar was grasped in his fist. He puffed on it, and filled the cabin with odorous fumes.

  The pilots ignored him.

  “I dunno, Mr. King,” I replied.

  “So far, my instincts regarding you seem spot on.”

  I tried to muster some contempt or at least derision, but I had to admit, the bastard looked confident and at ease, as he sat there.

  He mulled over my response for a minute or so, puffed on his rancid cigar another time or two, and took a huge gulp of the bourbon. He smacked his lips, and made a satisfied grunting noise. Then, he put the cigar into an ashtray, and set down his drink on the mahogany table.

  King leaned over towards me, his arms resting on the table that separated us.

  “Your stepbrother is of immense interest to me,” he said. “He is currently becoming a major pain in my ass.”

  King sat back.

  His brow furrowed, and he looked over at Tanner.

  “What Mr. King means is that Derek has done some things, in the pursuit of his current endeavors, that are not precisely legal. We have reason to believe that he is involved in a scheme to defraud Mr. King and his enterprises in Monaco and the Cayman Islands of something like five billion dollars.”

  My face must have registered my shock.

  King and Tanner sat there, inside the immaculate helicopter, observing my response.

  “I am sure there is a reasonable explanation for this,” I said. “Surely, you have some evidence you can provide?”

  “Ms. Greene, I think there is something you should see,” said Tanner.

  “It might be a bit disturbing to you, but I feel …we feel, strongly, that you must take this information into consideration regarding our upcoming legal action against Derek. We intend to have him indicted for fraud. We know that you are most likely going to try to represent him, and that we cannot allow. We are asking you to recuse yourself, in light of the information we will show you.”

  My head was spinning.

  Derek indicted for fraud?

  What could he possibly have done to cause this?

  “Please watch this short video, Ms. Greene,” he said.

  A small monitor inset into the cabin wall started playing.

  The video showed a boat, and then I recognized Sam Parker.

  I saw Tanner and King speaking with him, and realized that they were far out to sea.

  The waves were rough and the boat shook and rolled in the waters. I watched in horror as Derek came into view, and began arguing with the other men. There was too much wind noise to hear every word, but I heard some snatches of shouted conversation.

  “You bastard!” shouted Derek, and he moved towards Parker.

  Parker slipped overboard.

  From the camera angle, it looked like Derek had pushed him over the side!

  Sam Parker’s eyes were wide as he had fallen off the boat.

  “Come about! Get the life preserver and toss it over!” shouted King. “Hurry, George!”

  On the video, Tanner grabbed a rope and a life ring, and tossed them after Parker. The rope curled out and away. There was nothing to indicate that Parker had caught it, nor if it even was near him.

  “What’s this supposed to prove?” I asked.

  “Sam Parker’s body was never recovered, Megan,” said King.

  “Derek shoved him overboard, because Sam Parker was going to expose his attempt to defraud my companies.”

  “Bullshit! You’re lying!” I shouted in dismay.

  “Sam Parker died in a traffic accident, when his car crashed!” I said.

  “That’s the story everybody was told for insurance purposes, for your father’s company, but the true fact of the matter is that Sam Parker was murdered by Derek White,” said King.

  “This video proves that, and we also have documents that show the fraudulent reporting of Mr. Parker’s cause of death as being in that accident. Sam Parker was trying to elude alimony payments to his ex-wife. He faked the crash, so that he could start a new life.”

  “Unfortunately for him, Mr. White was too enthusiastic in his pursuit of Parker. When he finally caught up with him, Parker had changed his name and was assisting my companies in some logistics work. Mr. White stowed away on my boat, and pushed Mr. Parker overboard, as you can plainly see.”

  “Why didn’t you report this to the police, then?” I said.

  “My dear girl, of course we did,” King said, smiling like a snake.

  “Unfortunately, Mr. White slipped over the side of the boat as we entered the harbor and vanished. You do know he is a Navy SEAL, do you not?”

  My heart sank, again, and I felt darkness closing in on my soul.

  “Derek!” I cried silently.

  King and Tanner then brought out a small stack of papers in a manila folder.

  “This is the evidence we are submitting to the authorities that substantiates that Derek had been working covertly, for almost three years now, to undermine and defraud Mr. King and his businesses. Please feel free to take your time and read it over, Ms. Greene,” said Tanner.

  I began to read through the papers, skimming and looking for the smoking gun. I found it.

  There really was a police report filed, and it mentioned Derek as the perpetrator.

  That’s when I began to feel really sick.

  The combination of the flying and the shocking information I saw made me ill.

  My stomach began to do flip flops. I could feel my bile rising.

  I guess they must have seen me turning green, because Tanner had an airsickness bag close to hand.

  He proffered it to me, and I took it from him and bent over the thing. I fumbled as I tried opening it.

  “Here,” said Tanner, grinning. “Let me help you there…”

  He opened it and held it in front of my face.

  I wanted to vomit, but I just couldn’t make myself.

  Tanner looked over at King, who was straightening up the stack of papers.

  “You may have these, Ms. Greene,” he said, as he slid the folder over to me.

  “We will be sending a copy of the tape and these documents to the Dade County prosecutor’s office, the Florida State’s Attorney General, the FDLE and also the local Sheriff. We expect Derek will be incarcerated no later than tomorrow evening. At that time, his bail will be set to twenty million dollars. We intend to also bring suit against the Federal government for harassment and improper procedures regarding the investigation of Mr. King, his businesses, and expect that we will garner the cooperation of Interpol and Scotland Yard, due to the involvement of international banking concerns,” said Tanner.

  “Your stepbrother will be imprisoned for the rest of his life, Ms. Greene,” said King. “And, there is only one way to prevent it.”

  King slid back into his seat, grabbing his cigar and bourbon, and looked at me with his lizard-like eyes.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, my voice cracking.

  “I want you to kill your stepmother,” he said.

  My eyes wide, I couldn’t comprehend the words he’d just uttered. Unfamiliar and conflicting emotions welled up in me.

  “You must be insane! I’ll go to the police myself!” I yelled at hi
m.

  Laughing, King sat back and sipped his drink. He took another puff of smoke.

  “Oh, no, you will not,” he said. “George?”

  “What Mr. King is saying is that you really don’t have much choice. If you want to keep Derek out of prison, where he will most certainly be killed by one of the men he’s helped to incarcerate over the years, you will have to cooperate. And, we can assure you, these men will not make his death either fast, nor painless,” said Tanner.

  My eyes teared over, and the horror I felt made me retch.

  Derek! My love! How can I bear to see this happen to you?

  “I am pretty sure you have little love for your stepmother, Margaret, am I right, Megan?” said King.

  He leered at me, and took another puff of his cigar.

  “I think I’m going to be airsick,” I gurgled, just before Tanner thrust another air sickness bag in my face. I gagged, and coughed.

  The two men watched, and Tanner gave me a silk napkin to wipe my face.

  Then, he reached into a compartment and brought out some lemon-scented wipes.

  The odor made me gag again. I spit a few times into the airsick bag.

  “Have some water, my dear girl,” said King, with no sympathy in his voice at all. I bet he was worried I was going to foul his leather seats.

  “In actuality, Megan, your involvement in your stepmother’s demise will be incidental,” said King.

  “You merely need to not do something when the time comes,” he said.

  “That slight inaction will be enough, and you will no longer be bothered by that terrible woman,” he finished.

  “Nor will I…” he muttered.

  King looked out at the ocean, and frowned. There was something he wasn’t telling me.

  “I thought she and you were an item, King?” I asked, warily.

  My head began to throb, the vibration of the rotor blades making me nauseous again.

  “Dear Peg is merely a gold-digging whore,” he said.

  “I used her, and now her utility to me is almost at an end,” he continued.

  He made an odd movement, where his eyes rolled up briefly.

  He looked at Tanner, who discretely avoided looking back.

  “Why me?” I asked.

  “Because my dear girl, she trusts you. You are the least likely person to whom she will ascribe any ability to cause her harm. She may not love you, nor even like you. But, as hard as it may be for you to grasp, she respects you,” he said.

  “Your father gave you a strong character, and the one thing Peg has no ability to change is that spark of stubborn honesty that you exude,” he said.

  “What Mr. King is saying,” said Tanner, “is that she will allow you to get close enough to her for an accident to befall her, and no one will suspect foul play.”

  “You want me to set her up?” I said. “So you can have her killed?”

  “That is the idea,” said Tanner.

  “And in return…” I said, my voice trailing off.

  “In return, Derek will not be imprisoned. And, you, my dear, are rid of a thorn in your side,” said King.

  “And, if I refuse? Or go to the police?” I said, my voice shaking.

  “Well, Megan,” said King, “that would be most unfortunate for everyone involved. Most unfortunate, indeed.”

  He puffed out the last of his cigar, and leaned over towards me.

  He blew the cigar smoke directly into my face, and I threw up all over the table. I didn’t even attempt to use the now-sodden bag.

  Laughing, King looked out the window, as the helicopter began to descend towards the Fort Lauderdale Executive Airport.

  “George, I am thinking Italian, this evening? Perhaps Anthony’s?” he said.

  The restaurant in question sat on the edge of the airport. It was quite good, and I’d eaten there many times.

  The thought of that Italian food made me throw up again, but now there wasn’t anything in me.

  I dry heaved as the chopper set down.

  “Why not, Bobby?” said Tanner, with obvious pleasure.

  I sat there, sickened by the revelations that had been thrust upon me.

  What could I do?

  Oh, Derek, what in God’s name can I do?

  Chapter 8

  DEREK

  My step-dad insisted I call Sam Parker “Uncle Sam”.

  He thought it was a real funny joke.

  We’d be at a cook-out, Sam grilling burgers and dogs, and they’d get into politics. Sam would always argue for the Democrats, and my step-dad would argue for the Republicans.

  My stepmother would try her best to referee, but as soon as it got too heated, she’d just go away and drink.

  Most of the time, Megan would be there, listening to the two men argue over whose policies were worse, and she’d giggle and smile at me. I don’t know how she stood all that crap.

  She always enjoyed all that legal nonsense.

  And look what happened to her - she became an attorney!

  When we were at these events, I’d usually go play ball with the other guys, or just float around in the water.

  I always enjoyed swimming. I guess that’s partly why I ended up going into the Navy.

  But the real reason was that I couldn’t torture myself any longer.

  Being with Megan was all I had ever wanted.

  And it was impossible.

  It was better for the both of us if I just went away and never came back.

  I knew she was strong enough to find someone who could truly love her and make her happy. She just needed a chance to realize the truth.

  I was poison to her, and she was too kind and goodhearted to realize that.

  I knew how she felt.

  And I knew how I felt.

  And I knew that it was a damn shame how life complicates the simplest of things.

  Like love.

  *****

  I had joined a special task force that worked with the Miami Police Department and FBI to track the proceeds from illegal gambling and other organized crime operations that were based out of the county.

  I used to joke with some of my buddies that it was a real Miami Vice gig.

  The best part was I got to use a lot of the skills from my SEAL training, and worked alongside some of the best and most dedicated men I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.

  Our team was responsible for the interdiction of 15 separate motherships, that were incidental to our actual plan. That didn’t make us popular with the local hoods and thugs.

  Nor did it endear us to a particular batch of Detectives who had been turning their attention to other matters, some for many decades.

  They supplemented their police careers with perks from these associates. In many cases, even their wives knew that they were on the take, but that was expected and some of the circles from which they had come. There’s some glamour with mixing it up with Mafia wives, and these women secretly wished that their husbands had more balls and ambition to try to become made men.

  And, I know corruption is nothing new.

  But to find it so deeply embedded the law enforcement community was very disheartening to me.

  *****

  I can remember the entire incident as though it happened yesterday:

  Our local intelligence indicated that somehow, Sam Parker’s business, (the one he’d been running with Megan’s father, my stepfather), was aiding King’s money laundering racket.

  After some discussion, we’d decided a frontal approach was out of the question, so I was tasked with running a reconnaissance mission.

  Typically, this was not a great big deal. I would just swim out to Sam’s boat, the “Punta Gordo II” and slip into someplace cozy.

  My mission was simple - listen.

  I’m very good at listening.

  I was to get some information for later action, collect some intel.

  Above all, try to remain hidden.

  Discovery was a big no-no.


  After all, we were known as the best of the best.

  This wasn’t my first rodeo, after all.

  Just don’t ever ask me about Bin Laden…

  *****

  Later that week, our informant gave us the time when Parker and King were next slated to meet on the “Punta Gordo II”.

  I geared up, with our Team Leader, Randy and Walt, another member of the Alpha Team, checking me out.

  “You sure do look purdy, there, Derek,” said Walt. He was known for his ribbing when we were prepping for a mission. It was his way of dealing with stress.

  “Thanks, Walt,” I replied.

  “Say, did you brush your tooth today?” I asked.

  Walt grinned, all of his teeth gleaming in the sunset.

  A pretty large storm was coming in from the west, like it normally did every day in Miami during rainy season.

  The seas were really choppy, and large swells shook up Biscayne Bay.

  I hoped that I’d be lucky, and King and his cronies would just stay in the marina.

  No such luck…

  *****

  I swam over to Sam’s boat, and carefully crawled up the back steps. I was hoping to find out more about his dealings with Robert King and my stepfather. It was a really ugly day, and the sea was getting even rougher. I was lucky I’d gotten my sea legs when I joined the Navy.

  Then, I saw King drive up in his Mercedes and park.

  He got out, and so did another of his people - George Tanner.

  Sam Parker pulled in beside them about three minutes later, in a Tahoe. When he had parked, King and Tanner exited their car and walked out to the boat. They managed to get aboard without breaking anything.

  Sam came on after them, and Tanner began to untie the boat from the pilings.

  “What the fuck?” I thought. Were they seriously getting ready to go out in this shit?

  Most men I knew, even seasoned veterans, headed for a safer berth when weather like this threatened, if they could. The fact that this boat was heading out in this indicated to me that there was some pretty bad shit ahead. Few people are on the ocean when it’s angry.

  I was going to need a strong stomach to avoid giving myself away.

  *****

  Once we were underway, the swells and chop only worsened, the further from shore we went. The sky was heavy with thunderclouds, and lightning bolts crashed in the distance.

 

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