Annie had tears at the corners of her eyes, and Gwen squeezed her hand. “It sounds terrible for all of you.”
Annie wiped at her eyes. “It is. Tom says she’s doing better, that this is just a temporary setback, but I don’t know whether to believe him. It’s not like I can check.”
“Why not?”
Annie’s eyebrows shot up. “Because they know who I am! I can’t call, especially now.”
Gwen leaned onto her forearms. “Of course you can, Annie. You’re her sister, for God’s sake. They have to give you information if you ask for it. Maybe you can even talk to her.”
Annie shook her head. “No. I won’t call. Not until I’ve figured this out.”
Gwen didn’t push it, but she might know someone who could check on her sister for them discreetly. She would wait to suggest it, though, until Annie brought her up again. She’d make some phone calls in the meantime.
They moved back to the living room, Gwen grabbing a second bottle of wine. She didn’t particularly want the two of them to get drunk, but Annie was already looking a little more relaxed, and that wasn’t a bad thing for one night. The sunset had almost faded from the sky, but the living room was relatively bright from the last of the day and the streetlights outside. The people in the apartment in the building across the alley from them were having a party, and that apartment was so brightly lit, the two of them could watch the entire thing. Everyone seemed impossibly young—too young to be drinking and smoking, but they were obviously enjoying themselves. The faint sound of music leaked through the two sets of windows, but Gwen liked to hear it. She’d been to lots of parties like that when she was their age and didn’t begrudge anyone some innocent fun.
“We have to get that money,” Annie suddenly said.
Gwen turned to her, surprised. In the dim light of the living room, Annie’s face was cast in shadow, her angry expression heightened by the lack of light. She seemed murderous, deadly.
“Tell me about these people, Annie—the ones that screwed you. And use names, for Christ’s sake. It’s confusing enough as it is.”
Annie turned, regarding her silently for a long time as if making up her mind about something. “I’m still not sure you should get involved in this. You have a chance to get out, if you do it now. I don’t want you to get in trouble like I am. If you know too much, you’ll be in more danger.”
Gwen kissed her. “Stop saying that. I’m in this with you, Annie.”
Again, Annie stared at her, clearly troubled. She was biting and twisting her lips anxiously. Finally, she sighed. “Okay, Gwen. But please don’t hate me when we get caught. I-I couldn’t stand that.”
“I won’t. Now spill.”
Annie looked away again, watching the party. When she spoke, her voice was almost a whisper, and Gwen had to lean closer to hear her.
“It all started when I met Susan. She was the woman I called from the motel the other day. We met through a mutual acquaintance. I had the idea for the fraud long before I met her. I knew how to make the phony loans, and I knew how to fake the recipients. I’d convinced myself that it was a victimless crime—the insurance would cover it. The problem was moving the money. I only knew how to move it legally. Basically, I could get the money, but then it could be traced. Someone would catch on in only a month or two, so unless I could hide it somehow, there was no real point. I thought about it a lot, but I didn’t really try to do anything real or concrete. Not until I met Susan.”
“How did you meet?”
“Through a mutual friend of a friend. It was stupid, really. I was at a friend’s birthday party, and people were talking about their crappy jobs. My friend’s husband, Greg, mentioned that he knew how to break into his workplace without getting caught. He was drunk, so he had an excuse. I wasn’t—I think I was showing off. I mentioned that I could defraud the bank. I didn’t realize someone would take me seriously.”
She met Gwen’s eyes. “I don’t know if I ever really meant to try, Gwen. Do you understand? I don’t think I would have gone through with it—it was a kind of fantasy, you know? A daydream. I liked pretending I could get away with it—picturing me and my sister on a beach somewhere, drinking mai tais and daiquiris and swimming with dolphins—kid crap like that. Anyway, I realized I couldn’t move the money, so it wasn’t even a realistic fantasy.”
“I get it. Really, I do.”
Annie frowned at her before nodding. “The morning after the party, Susan called me. She said that her friend Bill had overheard something, and she wanted to talk to me. She was vague, but I understood what she meant without going into detail. We met that same day, and she spelled it out for me. She knew how to hide the money and not get caught.”
She was quiet, frowning. “Even then, I could have said no. I was desperate for the money, but most of me understood that we couldn’t get away with it. Even later, when I did the paperwork for the first phony loan, I knew I should call it all off. Susan was forcing me to approve way too much money. It was going to draw too much attention too quickly. Still, I went along with it and kept going along with it for weeks.”
“She must have been really persuasive.”
Annie flinched and nodded, and Gwen’s stomach dropped. “Oh—so it was like that, then?”
Annie looked at her, and even in the dim light, Gwen could see the tears sparkling in her eyes. “Yes. It was like that. I was a complete and utter idiot. She was stringing me along, but she gave me enough affection to doubt myself. Then she and Tom finally met. You saw him the other night—he doesn’t trust anyone. It’s funny, because if he likes you, he’s a big, tall teddy bear, but until then, he’s pretty cold. Tom didn’t know anything about her or the fraud, but he hated her immediately, and he never warmed up. At first I was pissed at him, but he wouldn’t change his mind. He kept telling me she was phony, no good. I finally started to realize how fucked up she was, and how deep she’d gotten me into this mess. I ended things between us long before I was caught, but the damage was already done. I’d stolen ten times as much money as I planned, and way too many people were involved. Even before the FBI showed, I was expecting them. Susan and Bill were smart enough to keep their names off any of the loans, so they were, of course, in the clear when all the shit hit the fan.”
“What was in it for them?”
“Half of everyone’s take.”
“Half! Jesus.”
Annie shrugged. “Like I said—stupid. All the people that posed for the phony loans were arrested at the same time I was, but Bill and Susan’s names were never brought up at trial. Susan made the same deal with everyone that went to prison—don’t rat, and she’d save their half of the money for them for when they got out. It was different for me, since I got so much time. That’s why she promised to break me out if I kept my mouth closed. My cut was also the biggest after hers and Bill’s.”
“How much money, total, did you steal?”
“Ten point five.”
“Wow. And those two have all of it now?”
Annie nodded. “Yes. Every cent.”
“They haven’t made any payouts? I mean, has anyone gotten out of prison yet?”
“No. The soonest is next year, from what I remember.”
“Do you know where they moved the money?”
Annie lifted her shoulders. “Only what I read in the papers. The FBI tracked it to Europe, then Asia, before they lost it, but I can guess. The Caymans would be my bet. That’s where I was going to put it if I could figure out how to cover my tracks on the way there.”
“Do you think that’s where they are now? Susan and Bill?”
Annie shook her head. “No. As far as I know, Susan’s still in Dallas—that’s where she was when I talked to her on the phone. She told me Bill was in Santa Fe.”
“Why there? What are those two places to them?”
“They own houses there.”
“They do?”
Annie nodded. “They’re married.”
“And you
knew—”
“No. I didn’t. Not until after I broke up with her. I think she told me to hurt me, but actually it made me feel better about the whole thing. It made me see that she’d been conning me the whole time, that I was better off without her. I don’t even think she’s really attracted to women. She was playing me. She’s an asshole, and I fell for it.”
Gwen thought for a while, the room now so dark that Annie and the furniture in the room were only vague silhouettes. The party was still raging on across the way, the music now loud enough to hear the lyrics, and the young people over there were, on the whole, visibly intoxicated, stumbling against each other flirtatiously and falling down a lot.
“I think that’s the first step,” Gwen finally said.
“What?”
“Finding the money. We have to know where it is before we try to get it.”
Annie laughed. “And how the hell are we supposed to do that?”
Gwen flicked on one of the table lamps next to her, and they both winced against the dim light.
“Listen—you keep forgetting something, here.”
“What?”
“You still have two things on your side.” She held up her fingers. “One: Susan doesn’t know that you know she betrayed you. She might suspect it, especially as you haven’t called in since you talked to her in the motel, but she can’t be certain. Two: you still have some leverage on her. You can still spill the beans to the police.”
“But that’s just it—I could never prove it! That’s the main thing I keep coming back to, and part of the reason I never even tried. My lawyers kept trying to get me to fess up, to give names, but I knew nothing would come of it. They’re too good. And anyway, why would anyone even believe me?”
“But Bill and Susan couldn’t possibly be sure of that. You could talk at any time. And anyway, no one’s perfect. There has to be some kind of trail, somewhere. If we can find something, anything, you’ve got them.”
“And if not?”
“Then we need to find the money.”
Annie laughed. “That’s what I’ve been saying all along. But how? And even if we find it, how on earth can we get it?”
“Would a fake ID be enough?”
Annie laughed. “What—you mean pretend to be Susan? That’s ridiculous.”
“Why?”
Annie sputtered for a few seconds and then shook her head. “Having an ID wouldn’t be enough. We’d need bank records, account numbers. And they wouldn’t be stupid enough to put it in their own names. For all we know, they have hundreds of fake accounts to hide that kind of money. And I doubt they’re all at the same bank.”
“But some of them will be. If we can find some, we can find the others.”
“Yes, but what then? We make a fake ID and get bank records for all of them?”
Gwen shrugged. “No—but enough of them. Enough to start a new life.”
Annie shook her head, exasperated. “And how would we get the IDs, anyway?”
“I know a guy.”
Annie laughed. “That still doesn’t solve the main problem. We don’t know where it is! We don’t even have the bank-account numbers, for crying out loud. How on earth could we even find them?”
Gwen smiled, scooting close enough to Annie to kiss her. “Have you ever been on a stakeout?”
Chapter Twelve
The sun in Santa Fe Plaza was oppressive, hotter, it seemed, than it had been in El Paso last week. Despite the heat, the plaza was crowded with tourists. Many of them were laden with bags of souvenirs, dressed as if they were out for a day at the beach. The tourists here in Santa Fe tended to be older—retirees, mainly, many of them hippies or wannabes, dressed in funky linens and sporting turquoise or beaded hemp jewelry.
Gwen had checked out the area before coming here with Annie, and they were both dressed the part with wide-brimmed hats, white T-shirts, loud shorts, sandals, and oversized sunglasses. Gwen had never worn clothing like this and felt ridiculous. Even dressed this way, she’d gotten several weird glances and a few outright stares. Whether it was her skin, her tattoos, or something else, she didn’t look the part. Annie, however, was a natural in her disguise, almost as if she belonged with these people. And for all Gwen knew, maybe she did.
She led Annie to a restaurant off the south side of the plaza, spotting her friend Tex on the patio out front. He’d found a table in the shade and waved at her when he saw them. They maneuvered around some other patrons to reach him, and he rose, all lanky six foot four of him, and pulled her into a long hug. When he drew back, he put his hands on her shoulders, peering down at her.
“What in the hell are you wearing?”
Gwen shrugged his hands off and made a quieting motion. “Shh. We’re in disguise.”
“Well, you look like a goddamn idiot. You might as well have worn a sign that said, ‘Hey! See me? I don’t belong here!’”
“I realize that now.”
“Not that you would ever belong with this crowd. They might be a bunch of bleeding-heart liberals, but they tend to be, shall we say, a bit, uh, less colorful than they could be. Foreigners like you ain’t exactly the usual. This one, on the other hand,” Tex gestured at Annie, “is a natural. A natural beauty, too, I might add.” He pulled off his cowboy hat, revealing his gray but luxurious hair, and gave her a slight bow before holding out his hand. “People call me Tex.”
“Annie,” she said, smiling and shaking it.
“Will you join me, ladies?” He indicated the table before slipping his hat back on. “I took the liberty and ordered us a pitcher of sangria. That’s why I wanted to meet you here—best damn sangria in town, and that’s saying something. Ain’t no town like Santa Fe for good sangria.”
The three of them sat, and Gwen drained a glass of water almost at once. It was nicer here in the shade, but the air was so hot it made her throat feel tight and almost painful. Tex and Annie were regarding each other, both of them slightly bemused. Tex finally shook his head, sighing.
“I hope you don’t mind me saying, but you’re a right looker, Annie.” He turned to Gwen. “You sure can pick ’em, lady. You must have some kind of voodoo spell. Every lady friend you have is pretty as a picture.”
Annie raised one eyebrow at her, and Gwen quickly changed the subject. “So, Tex, what do you have for us?”
He held his hands up. “Hold your horses, young lady. Let’s have our drinks first. Are the two of you hungry? It ain’t the best Mexican in town, but it’s not bad, either.”
“I’m fine,” Gwen said. “We ate—”
“I could eat,” Annie said. “What do you recommend?”
“Anything with green chili is pretty tasty—that’s a New Mexico specialty. I like their queso dip, too.”
The waitress appeared with their sangria, and Gwen waited as the two of them ordered, her impatience mounting. Last Friday, the morning after their conversation in the dark apartment in Denver, Gwen had called Tex, a colleague from work. Unlike her, and despite his name, he lived in one state—New Mexico. Most of his work was in Albuquerque, but he was from the Santa Fe area and had a place nearby. He was semiretired now, but she’d had a few jobs with him over the years. Calling him a close friend would be a bit of a stretch, but she trusted him, and they’d had a few afternoons like this—drinking sangria or tequila. By now, he would know what had happened down in Austin with her last client—everyone they worked with would—but he hadn’t mentioned it. Instead, when she’d called and asked for his help, he’d given it, no questions asked.
She’d asked Tex to watch Bill and Susan’s house just outside Santa Fe, and to track their movements if they came or left. Annie had said that of the two of them, Bill was supposed to be here, but Gwen wasn’t so sure. She was almost certain that Susan had lied to Annie—that Bill had watched for them in El Paso and phoned the police. At the motel that first day, Annie had called Susan at her place in Dallas, and there was, as far as Gwen knew, no way for Susan to fake that. Someone had to hav
e been in El Paso, so it must have been Bill, unless more people were involved than they thought.
She and Annie had spent the weekend in Denver, and despite Annie’s occasional anxiety, it had been a nice break. The weather had been pleasant, and they’d walked around Cheesman Park, having picnics or reading together under a tree. They hadn’t ventured beyond that area, spending their evenings quietly at the apartment. It had seemed, for a while, like a real life.
This morning, before they left for Santa Fe, Gwen had walked into a local branch of her bank and emptied her accounts. Doing this, she knew, would signal their movements to the police, but they couldn’t use her credit cards anymore, and she’d been low on funds. Now, between the two of them, they had almost fifteen grand, and they would need it all to make this work.
She watched Annie and Tex become acquainted over a mountain of food and a second pitcher of drinks. The two of them seemed to bond over horses, which, she learned, Annie used to own and ride. Tex had a small horse ranch outside of town, up in the mountains some twenty minutes away. Gwen had been there once overnight and had left with the worst hangover of her life, vowing to avoid mezcal forever.
Tex pushed his plate away and rubbed his stomach, smiling happily. “That was a fine meal, and it was nice to have a lovely lady to share it with. It’s usually just me, myself, and I when I go out to eat now. Last girlfriend I had set sail for California, of all places. Thank you, Annie.”
“My pleasure.”
“I love to see a woman enjoy her food. Not like this one.” He gestured at Gwen with a thumb. “She don’t eat enough to keep a bird alive.”
“Don’t get me started,” Annie said, grinning at her.
Gwen tried to laugh and sipped her drink. She hadn’t finished her first glass. Tex rolled his eyes and leaned closer, gesturing for the two of them to do the same.
“Okay, Annie. Miss Impatience here can’t seem to enjoy herself for twenty minutes.” He frowned at Gwen. “I did as you asked, missy, but there ain’t anything to report. The house is empty. I watched all weekend, and nothing. ‘Not a creature was stirring’ and all that.”
On the Run Page 12