Final Cut (The Kate & Jay series Book 4)

by Lynn Ames

  “He did that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wow.”

  “A little while ago, an alarm was tripped on our accounts. Sabastien was at his computer, working with Lorraine when he got pinged. He was able to follow the trail and figure out what was happening. So he went into our bank accounts and our retirement accounts and moved the money out of there right before everything got frozen.”

  “He…” Jay thought she must’ve heard wrong.

  “He moved our money into a couple of accounts in the Cayman Islands he set up for us and put our retirement monies into sheltered retirement funds offshore as well.”

  “He…” Jay still was trying to wrap her brain around it when her phone buzzed.

  “Hello?”

  “Jay? This is Amanda Fishel.”

  “Hi.” Jay put a hand over the phone and mouthed to Kate, “It’s our accountant.”

  “I just got a call from a representative with the Internal Revenue Service. According to them, you recently received a large denomination check originating in Yemen. The monies were deposited into a Swiss bank account held jointly by you and your wife. Do you know anything about that?”

  “It’s not true. We don’t have any accounts anywhere but here in the US, and we haven’t received or sought any foreign money. You know about every account we have.”

  “I figured as much, but unfortunately, the IRS just sent me the alleged paperwork they say they received from the Swiss, who flagged the account.”

  “This is all bogus, Amanda.”

  “I know.”

  “What can we do about it?”

  Amanda sighed on the other end of the line. “At the moment, we’re hamstrung. They’re saying that they suspect you took money from foreign sources to leak classified documents. The money you allegedly were paid counts as undeclared income, or undisclosed income. That gives the IRS the right to freeze all your assets and look into every aspect of your finances.”

  Jay’s head spun. “This can’t be happening.”

  “They’re freezing all of your bank accounts and credit cards and opening an audit of all your finances going back seven years. I’m sorry, Jay. I’m compelled by law to turn over everything they ask of me.”

  “I understand. It’s not your fault.”

  “Jay? This could get pretty ugly.”

  “How much uglier can it get?”

  “A lot. The IRS is a powerful entity. You won’t be able to do any online banking, or get a loan. If you have any outstanding loans, including mortgages, cars, etc., they can be called in. You’ll have no credit. Your auto insurance costs will likely go up… You get the idea.”

  “I do.” Jay closed her eyes tightly. “We’re screwed.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  “Screw that,” George screamed into the phone. “You tell them they can’t do that. We have a deal. They agreed. We have the paperwork and all the clearances and they gave us assurances that everything was a ‘go.’ They can’t back out now.”

  Dara watched the dark clouds swirl in his eyes and was glad she wasn’t on the receiving end of that anger.

  “Yeah? Well, fix it!” He disconnected the call and hurled the phone into the couch cushion.

  “What the heck was that all about?”

  “The Brits. Now they’re saying they awarded us all those incentives and bonuses in error and our costs are going to go through the roof. Not only that, but they’re withdrawing the permission to film in our main location. You know, the one where we just spent millions building the elaborate replica of the White House.”

  Dara’s knees went weak and she clutched the back of the chair for support. Money was flying out of the movie’s dedicated bank account at an alarming rate. When she and her accountants put together the budget for the film, they used conservative cost estimates, but even with that cushion, a major shift in venue would be catastrophic.

  “We have to solve this. We’re too far down the road to fold up shop and move the sets elsewhere.”

  “We’ll figure this out.” George scrubbed the stubble on his face. “I promise you, we’ll figure this out.”

  Dara wasn’t as sure. “The cast will be here any minute. What do you want to tell them?”

  “I think we do the read-through and see how it goes. We don’t need to tell them anything yet. We’re not scheduled to leave for another week.”

  Rebecca appeared in the doorway. “Is this a private party?”

  The brightness of her smile was a balm to Dara’s soul. “Come on in.” She hoped her distress wasn’t obvious. What would she tell her wife? Not only had Rebecca invested a significant share of her own personal savings to co-produce the movie, but she had refused payment for co-writing the script in order to offset the production costs. Now… She didn’t want to talk about this with Rebecca. Not just yet.

  “I’m going to make sure the room is all set,” George said. “I’ll see you both in there.”

  Dara nodded at him, grateful for his recognition that she needed these brief moments alone with Rebecca in order to compartmentalize what had just happened and to transition from businesswoman to actress.

  “Hi, beautiful.” Rebecca stroked her hand down Dara’s back and pulled her in for a kiss. When she released her she said, “Sorry. I just couldn’t imagine going hours watching you work without doing that first.”

  “You never need to apologize for that, sweetheart.”

  Rebecca’s brows knit together. “What’s wrong?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know. You just seem…” Rebecca studied her face. “Distracted.”

  Dara shrugged nonchalantly. “I’ve got a lot going on.”

  “Okay.” Rebecca drew out the “o.”

  “We should get going.”

  “Right.”

  Dara could tell Rebecca wasn’t really mollified. Hopefully the next few hours would provide enough of a distraction to make her forget her concerns. She led the way into the big conference room.

  “I wish Jay could be here for this,” Rebecca said to Dara as they watched the actors file in. “She should be on hand for the table-read. It’s her film and the first performance of her work.”

  “I know, sweetheart. I wish she could be here too. But with the FBI sitting outside her front door, she was adamant that it would be detrimental to us and to the project for her to expose all of us to that level of scrutiny. Her presence here would give the Feds confirmation of the movie deal she didn’t want them to have.”

  “Speaking of which, it doesn’t feel right to me that I get the only visible credit for the screenplay. Whose idea was it to hand out the scripts without Jay’s screenwriting credit on it?”

  “Jay’s. Again, she insisted on keeping any mention of her to a minimum for as long as possible.”

  “But the actors know whose work it is.”

  “Yes, we disclosed that to them upfront because we needed them to understand what they were signing on to do. But this way, there’s nothing overt to connect the script to Jay.”

  “It feels wrong to me,” Rebecca said.

  “I know. I’m not crazy about it myself. But this is the way she wanted to play it, so I think we’re obligated to go along with her wishes. At least for now.”

  “Okay. Take your seats everyone.” George shouted to be heard over the din of conversation.

  “Time for me to go to work,” Dara said.

  “Break a leg.”

  Dara took a seat at the table next to Trevor Hanscome, the actor with whom she would share the bulk of her screen time. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to settle her emotions. She wished Rebecca hadn’t mentioned Jay. What would Dara tell Jay if the obstacles to making the film became insurmountable? You have to find a way to see this through. Whatever else happens, Jay deserves to have her story told.

  George passed the scripts around the table. “Okay, let’s get started.”

  Sabastien let the script run in the background. It w
as just a matter of time until this algorithm would yield the names of the companies he’d been vetting at the time of the Hyland files leak. In the meantime, he was very troubled by his friends’ predicament. Surely there was more he could do to exonerate Jay and Kate and restore their good names. The government’s deception should not be allowed to stand. But, given his current status as fugitive and suspected traitor, no one would care what Sabastien thought.

  “Earth to Sabastien?” Lorraine took the seat opposite him. “You’re a million miles away. What’s on your mind?”

  “Your government.”

  “Ah. That’s complicated.”

  “I do not understand how they can black hole upstanding citizens such as Kate and Jay. This makes no sense to me.”

  Lorraine chuckled.

  “This is funny somehow?”

  “No.” Lorraine shook her head. “You meant to say blackball, not black hole. A black hole is an abyss. Blackball means to unfairly tarnish someone’s reputation to adverse effect—to exclude them.”

  “Oh. I am mangled again, yes?”

  “I find it endearing.”

  “Thanks to God.”

  “To your point, things that are unjust rarely make sense. In this case, there are those in positions of power who feel very threatened by what Jay knows, and what she might do with that knowledge. As a result, they are doing their best to intimidate her—to silence her.”

  “But what they are doing is illegal.”

  “It is most assuredly unethical, and yes, now they’ve crossed a legal threshold.”

  “We must help the girls.”

  “You’ve already taken great strides in that direction by moving their money. That certainly will ease the financial stress on them.”

  “We must do more.”

  “I agree. Peter is calling in markers from some of his Washington connections even as we speak to bring pressure to bear on the Feds to back down.”

  “Good. I have wired the girls cash.”

  “You’re very sweet, Sabastien.”

  “These are my friends. I take care of my friends.”

  Lorraine narrowed her eyes in thought. “Are you certain that the Swiss deposit came from within the IRS?”

  “What? I am certain that it did not.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The Internal Revenue Service is one of the many agencies I was charged with monitoring. I would recognize their cyber fingerprints anywhere. The deposit we are talking about originated from an account I have seen before connected to, but not within, your Central Intelligence Agency.”

  Lorraine’s eyes got big as saucers. “Shit. Can you show me what you saw?”

  Sabastien’s eyes lit up. “Of course.”

  “Do it.”

  Sabastien swung around in his chair and booted up yet another laptop. When he had the information on screen, he turned it to face Lorraine. All the color drained from her face.

  “Are you sure that’s the right account?”

  “I am.”

  “Can you trace the deposit to a particular IP address?”

  “I can and I did.”

  Sabastien inputted another command and again showed Lorraine the display.

  Lorraine buried her head in her hands.

  “Did I do something wrong?”

  “No, not you.” When she looked up at him again, Lorraine’s eyes were haunted.

  Sabastien rushed on, “But this person did not act alone. He was in cohorts with someone from the Internal Revenue Service.

  “Cahoots.”

  “Quoi?”

  “Cahoots. Not cohorts. That’s something entirely different.”

  “Oh.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because I was able to trace electronic correspondence from that address to an IP address in the IRS.”

  “You were?”

  “Of course.” Sabastien proudly puffed out his chest. “I can do practically anything.”

  “Let me see.” Lorraine said.

  Sabastien’s hands were a blur as he closed and opened windows on the laptop. “I have saved everything I found so far.” He handed the computer to Lorraine. “This is what I collected right after my alarm went off.”

  Lorraine’s expression was grim as she scrolled down. “Are we able to transmit data to Peter securely yet?”

  “Alas, no. I cannot be certain that our transmissions will be free of interference. Not yet.”

  Lorraine sighed heavily. “Okay. Let me know the second you think we’re secure.”

  “I will. Lorraine?”

  “Yes?”

  “I am sorry.”

  “Why? About what?”

  “You seem very upset. Like you saw a ghost. Do you know who these people are?”

  “No. But I know what they are. And the sooner we can get this proof to Peter, the better.”

  “I could put it on a thumb drive and you could go home, no?”

  “No, my friend. Our primary job remains solving the riddle of the leak and what the Commission’s objective is. I can’t leave until we have all the answers and the proof we need on that front.”

  “But our friends… We could fix their reputations and finances with this information I collected, no?”

  “I hope so, Sabastien. But not today. Today, we find out the Commission’s end game.”

  Kate and Peter walked up the hill on sun-splashed Connecticut Avenue. It was a mild day for Washington, D.C. in the middle of summer, and the sidewalk was filled with pedestrians taking advantage of the rare low humidity.

  “It’s been a long time since we’ve been back here, my friend,” Peter said. “You okay?”

  “I’d be lying if I told you this brought back pleasant memories.”

  “We could’ve taken a cab instead of the metro.”

  “We could have, but it’s incredibly rare for it to be this pleasant in D.C. in the summertime. I needed the walk to stretch my legs and settle my emotions. It’s time to exorcise old demons.”

  They passed the Washington Hilton. Not far ahead of them was the Russian Trade Representatives Building. Kate’s heart pounded in her chest and beads of sweat dotted her brow.

  “You’re sure you’re okay?” Peter put a hand on the small of her back to steady her.

  Kate shook him off. Her breathing was shallow. In her mind’s eye, she saw herself running for her life from the Russian Ambassador’s reception, past the Hilton, and toward the DuPont Circle Metro station.

  “Katherine Ann Kyle!”

  Peter’s voice snapped her back into the present.

  “That was then. This is now. Focus on the now, sweetie. Nothing bad is going to happen to you. I’m right here and you’re safe.”

  “I know that.” Kate didn’t mean to snap at him.

  “I know you do. But I’ve been there, done that with PTSD myself, and I understand the illogical nature of the disease. It’s okay to feel fear. It’s not okay to give in to it or to dwell too long in that space.”

  Kate swallowed hard. She lengthened her stride and picked up the pace. “I’m fine.”

  Peter tentatively reached out, squeezed her shoulder once, and let go. “Yes, you are.”

  It’s time to change the topic. “You really think Mimi Hyland can help us?” Kate asked.

  “Former first ladies still have connections, and she carries weight in some circles. She always liked you and Jay. She’s principled and I trust her. She may be the best shot we have at convincing the IRS to de-escalate this situation. Unless, of course, you enjoyed paying cash for your flight and getting patted down by the TSA.”

  “Very funny.”

  They turned the corner and arrived at 2122 California Street NW.

  “Here we go.” Peter led the way up the front steps and opened the door into the main lobby. He motioned for Kate to go first.

  “Nice digs.” Kate’s gaze took in the columns, the marble, and the ornate details of the foyer.

  “Peter Enright to
see Mimi Hyland,” Peter told the security guard at the desk.

  “Yes, sir. One moment, please.” The guard picked up a phone and pressed a button. He murmured into the receiver, waited, and then hung up. “You can go right up. Take the elevator on your right.”

  “Thank you.”

  Kate and Peter took the elevator to Mimi’s floor. When the doors opened, they stepped out, and the doors closed behind them. As they did, a big ball of fur bounded at her and Kate stumbled backwards.

  “Rufus! Get back here this minute.”

  Kate recovered, knelt down, and hugged the gorgeous golden retriever. She rubbed his ears as his tail wagged furiously. “Good boy, Rufus.”

  “I’m so sorry. This boy has no manners and no sense of decorum.”

  Kate stood up. “Mrs. Hyland, it’s wonderful to see you again.” She held out her hand, surprised when the former first lady pulled her into a warm hug.

  “It’s been too long, Kate.” She jerked her thumb in Peter’s direction. “This guy keeps me up to date, but it’s not the same as seeing you.” She pulled back and held Kate at arm’s length. “Tell me, how is Jay holding up?”

  The former first lady’s eyes were filled with compassion and concern, and Kate was deeply touched.

  “She’s doing the best she can under the circumstances, ma’am.”

  “You did not just ‘ma’am’ me.”

  Kate raised an eyebrow.

  “Please, call me Mimi. I insist.”

  “But—”

  “No buts.” Mimi waved Kate off. She wagged a finger at the dog, who was sitting ramrod straight and staring up at them with a goofy grin. “As for you, young man, that is not the way we introduce ourselves to guests.”

  Kate laughed as Rufus licked Mimi’s hand. “He’s adorable.”

  “He’s a handful. Nowhere near as regal and gentlemanly as your Fred was.”

  Kate’s heart jolted. “You remember Fred?”

  “Of course I do, dear. He was lovely.” Mimi led the way inside. “Did you ever get another dog?”

  Kate shook her head. “Fred was one of a kind. After he died, neither Jay nor I could bear the thought of going through the trauma of losing another dog. Not only that, but we were both doing so much traveling, we knew it wouldn’t be fair to bring another dog into the house.”