by Laina Turner
The feds came up with a plan to catch Marshall, and Randall agreed to help. Now they were coming up to the end of the twenty-four-hour deadline, and Randall and Chloe were sitting at his house, nervously waiting. The feds had put a trace on his phone so they could hear what was being said—just as much to track Randall, as it was to get information from Marshall. They had made it clear that Randall wasn’t completely out of the woods yet.
“Are you ready for this?” Chloe asked him.
He nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be. At least this is closer to being over.”
“You really don’t think he will put the money in your account like he said?”
“No. I don’t.” He grimaced.
Randall had his account pulled up on his computer, and so far, there hadn’t been any activity.
He kept looking at the clock on his phone, and as soon as it turned from 9:29 to 9:30, he refreshed it to see there still hadn’t been a multi-million-dollar deposit. It would have been comical if there wasn’t so much riding on it. He picked the phone up, took a deep breath, and dialed, putting it on speaker so Chloe could hear.
Marshall answered on the first ring.
“You really want to test me, Marshall?”
“I can explain, Randall. I just need more time,” Marshall said, but he didn’t sound worried or anything. Not like he should be with what was at stake. At least, in her opinion.
“There is no more time to be had, Marshall!”
“I know what you’ve got to be thinking, but you’ve got to trust me.”
“Trust you? Why on earth would I trust you? After what you’ve done?” Randall laughed, but it was hollow.
“Listen to me, Randall. Remember when we were kids and had math class?”
Randall made a face, and Chloe looked at him questioningly.
“Mrs. Sim’s class,” Randall said, clearly understanding what Marshall was trying to tell him.
“Yes. Now I’ve got to go. Call me back in an hour.”
Randall put his phone down and pulled his laptop over.
“What did he mean?” Chloe asked.
“He gave me a clue that might explain what’s going on.”
“Well? Tell me!”
“When we were in middle school, we had a teacher named Mrs. Sims. This was at the height of Marshall’s being bullied. She was a great teacher and felt bad for Marshall. She gave him the key to her supply room, telling him if he ever needed to get away and be alone, he could go there. She provided him a safe haven.”
This was a nice story, but Chloe didn’t understand what it had to do with the present situation. She impatiently waited for Randall to continue.
“So from then on, we always referred to math class as our safe word. In college, we created an email account just for us, in case we ever needed to discuss secret things. It was more just screwing around, kid stuff, and I haven’t thought about it in forever.”
“That’s what Marshall was trying to tell you? To go to this place for a message?”
“Exactly. If Marshall is being put up to this and he can’t chance getting caught telling me what’s going on, it would be a perfect place to get me a message.”
“And can you still access this place after all this time?”
“Yes. In fact . . . I’m in.”
Chloe walked around to peer over his shoulder. There sat one lone email.
“Wow, not even any spam,” Chloe said.
“That’s because we don’t use it. So no one can find our email address to send spam.” Randall clicked on the message and brought it up.Randall, I’m really sorry to have put you through this, but I had no choice. I went to Clive Thomas for funding on project 23, and I’ve gotten in way over my head. When you wouldn’t merge, they gave me no option but to get you out of the way. I don’t know what to do. Please help me. Marshall.
They both read in silence, and then looked at each other. “What’s project 23?” Chloe asked.
“It was a pet of Marshall’s. Another potential alternative fuel source using minerals from water. GlobE wouldn’t fund the project. It was too expensive for research that had a slim chance of turning into something viable. Marshall was angry and upset that the board didn’t think there would be a good return on investment. Neither did I. I knew he was angry, but not this angry. I guess he decided to get the project funded at any cost.” Randall shook his head. “Marshall has always had a problem knowing when to let something go. Now it’s really landed him in trouble.”
Randall’s phone rang. It was Agent Thorpe. “Yes, sir. I have a message from him that gives more information. Okay. We will be right there.” He hung up and turned to Chloe.
“They want us back at the federal building. God, I hope this is over soon,” Randall sighed.
“Me too,” said Chloe, and they walked to the back door.
“Just a second. I left my keys on the table,” Randall said, turning back.
“Okay,” Chloe said, and started to open the back door. She had barely turned the knob when the door was forcibly pushed open, knocking her off balance.
“What are you doing here?” she gasped.
“Did you say something, Chloe?” Randall called from the other room. “I can’t find my keys. I swear I set them right there on the table.”
She could hear him moving things around.
“Maybe you should just drive. I can grab my extra house key.”
“Um, Randall,” she called out. “I’m not sure we’re going anywhere right now.”
“What do you mean?” he said, walking up behind her. Then he stopped. “Oh.”
“Both of you, back into the house,” the man said, waving a gun at them.
Randall and Chloe turned and went back to the room they were just in.
“Sit down,” the man said, and they complied. He shook his head. “You two should have just left well enough alone.”
“Roger, I don’t understand, why are you here?” And holding a gun on us, Chloe wanted to add, but didn’t feel there was a need to state the obvious.
“I’ve been sent by my employer to tie up loose ends, and you two fall into that category.”
“I take it you’re not Bill Peterson’s son?”
“Good story, though, wasn’t it? People always love a good orphan story.” He sneered.
“You were just trying to get close to Bill?” Chloe asked.
“Yes, and it worked. Now, enough with the questions. My boss wants to talk to you both. So this is what we are going to do. We’re going to get in your car, and you’re going to drive where I tell you. Any funny business and I’ll have no problem shooting you like I did your friend Bill.”
Chloe and Randall both nodded nervously.
“Now get up,” he said to them, not taking the gun off them for a minute. Gone was the insecure law student, and in his place was someone who was cold and seemed to have all the confidence in the world. So much for being a good judge of character. That trait had failed her this time.
They got up and walked out to Chloe’s car, with Roger right behind them.
Chloe slid behind the wheel with Randall next to her and Roger in the backseat, so he could keep an eye on them, along with the gun.
Roger gave her the directions, and as she backed out of the driveway and listened to him tell her where to go, recognition dawned on her. She looked over to Randall and saw he had also figured out where they were going.
About fifteen or twenty minutes went by. There was silence in the car except for directions from Roger every few minutes.
Finally, they turned onto a gravel road that took them into the old train yard; the one Randall had met Marshall in. Their special place. Which made Chloe fear the worst, because what were the odds they would be driving here to meet someone other than Marshall? She had a bad feeling about this.
“Okay, stop here,” Roger said. “Turn off the engine, and give me the keys.” He stuck his free hand up toward the front to take the keys from her. “Now, get out.”
As they were getting out, another car was pulling in and stopped a few feet from them. Chloe and Randall looked over to see Marshall and another man get out of the car.
This was what Chloe had been afraid of once she realized where Roger was taking them. She glanced over at Randall to see his reaction, and he was impassive. She could only imagine that while he had probably reached the same conclusion upon knowing where they were going, the confirmation still had to be quite a blow.
Finally, Randall spoke, “Marshall, why bother with the cryptic phone call and email if you were just going to bring us out here and kill us?”
Chloe flinched at his bluntness. She’d tried not to think the obvious about their situation. Randall apparently wanted to get all the cards on the table.
“I had to buy some time. I assumed your phone was bugged by the feds, since I know you met with them after our last conversation. I wanted to throw them off to give me enough time to collect my money and take off.”
“So you did frame him and take the money,” Chloe said.
“It was a means to an end.” Marshall shrugged. “ProCon wanted the company, and I wanted to be rich.”
“You are rich! We both are,” Randall said. “I don’t understand.”
“Yes, well, I wanted to be rich on a whole different level. You, my friend, just wanted to keep reinvesting in the company and give it away to philanthropic endeavors. Your Little Goody Two-Shoes act was draining us.”
“Marshall, we had plenty!”
“Randall, you just never understood, and frankly, I don’t have the time to explain it to you,” Marshall said, looking at his watch. “I’ve got a plane to catch.”
“Then why bring us out here?” Chloe asked. “Why not have Roger just kill us back at the house?”
“I wanted to see Randall one last time.”
There was something about Marshall’s tone that was so unnerving to Chloe. He was completely emotionless and cold, and to hear him talk, he just didn’t seem sane. How had they been friends all these years?
“Roger, you may do your job once I leave,” Marshall said, waving his hand and walking back to his car. Roger nodded.
“Marshall, you don’t have to do this,” Randall called to his back.
“Yes, Randall, I’m afraid I do.”
Chloe and Randall stared at Marshall as he got in and started the car. Now the panic was settling in as Chloe realized there didn’t seem to be a way out of this. She reached over to Randall and grabbed his hand. He was trembling as bad as she was.
Marshall’s car started pulling away, and Roger spoke up.
“Start walking.” He motioned back toward the abandoned cars.
Chloe gripped Randall’s hand tighter, and they turned to do as Roger said.
The sound of sirens almost gave Chloe a heart attack, as adrenaline charged through her body.
Lights flashing and sirens going, the place was quickly filled up with law enforcement vehicles. She could see that Marshall’s car was blocked in.
Roger started to make a run for it when a voice said, “Stop, Roger Moorehouse, you are under arrest. Drop your weapon.”
Roger stopped, letting his gun fall to the ground, and two men quickly came, handcuffed him, and led him away.
Randall grabbed Chloe and hugged her tight. She could feel the tears forming, and her body went almost limp as the reality sank in about what had almost happened.
“Sorry to break this up, but we need to talk to you both,” Agent Thorpe said, walking up to them. Chloe had never been so glad to see someone in her life.
Chapter 20
“How did you know where we were?” Chloe asked thirty minutes later, as they were seated in a room at the police station.
“I got a call from Randall,” Jim Thorpe said.
Chloe looked over at Randall with a confused look on her face.
“I hit redial as soon as I walked down the hall and saw Roger there. I was just hoping that Agent Thorpe could hear me.”
“We could, and that’s what tipped us off to what was happening. If Randall hadn’t done that . . . well, this may have turned out differently.”
“Then you were able to hear the directions Roger was giving us,” Chloe said to no one in particular, the whole thing making sense now.
“What’s going to happen to Marshall?” Randall asked.
“Well, Roger flipped quick on Marshall to save his own skin, once he realized how much trouble he was in. He confessed to killing Bill, breaking into Bill’s house, and breaking into your apartment. He was looking for evidence Bill had on Marshall, that Marshall didn’t want to get out.
“Detective Rodriguez contacted us as we were on our way to you. He found out Roger wasn’t Bill’s son, and that he was suspected in a few other criminal activities.”
“Was he looking for the same information that Joe Barber, the guy Marshall sent to spy on Randall, was looking for?” Chloe asked.
Agent Thorpe shook his head.
“No, Joe Barber was trying to help. He had given Bill information, the same information that ultimately got Bill killed. He was following you guys, waiting to decide if you could be trusted, and partly afraid if he told you, you both might be killed. He feels responsible for what happened to Bill. We picked him up this morning. He filled us in, and his story checks out. He had the information Roger was looking for.”
“What was it Bill was hiding?” Randall asked.
“Documents that show Marshall’s correspondence with Clive Thomas at ProCon, planning to set you up.”
“Wow. So, this was really all about greed. Marshall wanting more than what he had, at any cost,” Chloe said.
“That’s how it looks,” said Agent Thorpe. “Right now, Marshall is refusing to talk, but I’m sure he will eventually, and we’ll get more answers.”
“Does this mean Randall’s name is cleared?”
“We have a few more i’s to dot and t’s to cross, legal red tape, but at this point, we have no reason to believe Randall was anything more than the fall guy. It shouldn’t take long to clear him.”
Randall smiled, relief washing over him, and Chloe beamed.
The agents had another hour’s worth of questions, and then finally let them leave.
“Thank goodness that’s over,” said Chloe. “I bet you’ll be glad to get back to your normal life.”
“Yeah,” Randall said, and she could tell he was preoccupied.
“Thinking about Marshall?”
“I just can’t understand how I didn’t see this coming. How could he have changed so much?”
“I don’t know, Randall, and you need to realize you may never know.”
“You’re right. I just need to put it behind me and move on, as difficult as that may be.”
“Yes, you do, but I know it won’t be easy. You need to take some time for yourself and relax. Figure out your next move.”
“Oh, to relax and let things get back to normal,” Randall said. “The thought of it sounds just wonderful. I wonder if they ever will be. Normal, I mean. My entire life has been turned upside down.”
“You’ll just have to see, I guess.”
“I guess I will.”
The End
About the Author
A little about me…
As a child, I thought I would either be a truck driver (thanks to Jerry Reed in Smokey and the Bandit) or work at Taco Bell (my favorite restaurant as a child). As I grew older, I realized my talents lay in academics and business and for the last several years have been a business consultant and college professor where I use the analytical side of my brain and not the side that makes up stories.
Through all my career choices I continued to have a passion for writing. This stemmed from childhood where as an only child I developed a vivid imagination spending most of my time making things up and thinking the Incredible Hulk lived in my closet.
Proud of my vast experiences in life from barrel racing to being on the dance team for a sem
i-pro basketball team to being a mom of 2 amazing kids, I tell my family and friends that no one is safe from their escapades slipping into my books.
Taking the plunge to write books (cozy mysteries and chick lit) that I actually let people read in 2010, I have worked my way up to being a real author, having 5 fans (maybe 6 now).
You can also find me at:
Thanks for Reading
If you loved this book, I know you’ll enjoy the rest of my novels. Scroll through the titles below, or check out my website at Laina Turner. If you like fun, flirty, and sometimes mysterious books then take a minute to sign up for my mailing list and you will receive a FREE book!
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