Deadly Deception

by Rayna Morgan

  “Maybe you’re also worried about what your mother is doing. I understand she’s seeing someone.”

  Dylan threw another stone, but it bounced once and sank. “She keeps telling me this guy is only a friend. I’m not blind. I can see they’re into each other.”

  “I don’t think either of them knows where they’re going at this point. They’re only sharing the pain of broken relationships and finding a way to feel less lonely.”

  “She’s got me. Aren’t I enough?”

  “No one will ever replace you in her life. But she’s trying to move on from the divorce, for your sake as much as hers.”

  “She can do what she wants.” The boy spoke harshly, but his voice cracked. “Nothing she says or does bothers me.”

  “It would, if you’re still hoping your mom and dad will get back together.”

  The boy responded with adolescent contempt for grown-ups. “Adults are boring. I have more important things on my mind than worrying about what they’re doing.”

  “More important things like what?”

  Sensing a trap, the boy merely chuckled. “You know. Music, zits on my face, girls.”

  Taking pleasure in Warren’s disapproval, he pressed on. “Getting hold of booze and deciding how soon to start shaving. That’s all I’m interested in.”

  “What about school? Do you like your teachers?”

  He snorted. “Like I said, adults are boring.”

  This kid isn’t fooling anyone, Warren thought. His anger cloaks an underlying pain.

  “Why don’t you go home, Dylan? Give your mom a chance. Besides, she’s not the only one concerned about you.”

  Before the boy turned away, Warren handed him a card. “Call me anytime you need someone to talk with.”

  Dylan stuffed the card in the pocket of his jeans. “Tell Jon I’m fine.”

  “I’m headed to his house. I’ll give you a ride. You can tell him yourself.”

  • • •

  Warren left the boy at Lea’s house with Dylan’s promise to go home after he and Jon played video games.

  From his own home, he placed two calls.

  The first to Dylan’s mother to tell her Dylan would be home shortly.

  The second to Tom Elliot.

  “I need your help, Tom.”

  “What can I do?”

  “I may have a candidate for the police Explorers program.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Tom was on his first cup of coffee and wading through paperwork when Cranston appeared at the door.

  “Hey, Elliot. Just checking in. I’m here to see Pat Fisher.”

  Tom acknowledged the man with a nod without inviting him in.

  “I told her you were coming. I’m surprised you made the trip yourself.”

  “I had business in the area. Thought I’d kill two birds with one stone.”

  “Police business?”

  “Personal.”

  “I didn’t know you had family in Buena Viaje.”

  “I didn’t say I did.”

  Cranston turned and walked down the hall.

  Tom clenched his teeth.

  He tried to be nice to the guy, but it wasn’t easy. Cranston was one of those guys who naturally get under your skin.

  • • •

  Pat flinched as she watched the man walk toward her. His chest muscles strained against his shirt. His pants pulled tight over muscled thighs. It wasn’t surprising people in the hallway stepped to one side.

  Cranston always spent more time in the gym than pounding pavement. Rumors indicated her former boss was bullied as a kid growing up in the projects. In self defense, he took up weight lifting and boxing and continued to train throughout his career.

  His sports of choice served him well as a cop. His appearance alone intimidated suspects.

  “There you are, Fisher.” His steely eyes focused on her and a half smile reflected neither friendliness nor hostility. “I wasn’t sure I’d find you here. Figured you might have made yourself unwelcome at this station as well.”

  She refused to let him provoke her.

  “Dry up, Cranston. The only people I was unpopular with were you and the bent cop you covered for.”

  Cranston’s jaw tightened. “There were never official complaints against O’Brien.”

  “Who are you kidding? You know he doesn’t deserve to wear the shield.”

  When another person walked toward them, Cranston changed the conversation. “You know what I’m here for.”

  “Tell me when you’re ready to take my statement.”

  He glanced at his watch. “We’ll get together later.”

  “Sure, no problem.”

  He turned away from her. In a swift change of tactics, she grabbed his beefy arm. She wanted to trap him into revealing if he visited the area recently.

  “I’m glad to hear you got one of the gang members in custody.”

  He removed her fingers from his sleeve. “We don’t have proof yet that the bullet he fired was the one that killed your friend. We’re working on it.”

  “Nevertheless, the idea of finally getting the guy responsible is exciting.” She carried on in a conciliatory manner. “I know we’ve had differences in the past, but I appreciate you coming so far to make that happen.”

  He shrugged. “Just doing my job. Besides, coming here gives me a chance to settle a debt.”

  She hadn’t expected such willingness to reveal his true reason for coming.

  “The least I can do is take you for a drink. Tell me where you’re staying. I’ll pick you up.”

  “I’m at the Surf and Sand.”

  Just as I thought, there is no cousin.

  “Okay. Let me know before you leave town, and we’ll meet at the hotel bar.”

  He smiled arrogantly. “I never say no to free booze.”

  They parted ways, but Pat couldn’t help wondering if she was the debt he intended to settle.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  The visitors arrived at Marge’s condo for their appointment with Toby.

  Warren appeared casual in khaki pants and a button-down shirt. Following her father’s instructions, Maddy dressed in a more provocative manner. The floral dress with plunging neckline ended inches above her knees.

  Marge led them into a room filled with white leather furniture and colored accessories. An easel stood at one side of a glass door leading to the balcony. Beside it was a small table with a palette and a jar filled with brushes.

  “Are you a painter?” Warren asked, pointing to a canvas with the outline of a boat.

  “The marina provides scenery which inspires me. With my husband gone, I have time to indulge my passion.” She smiled shyly. “At least it’s a way to exercise my brain.”

  “You never know,” Warren said. “Grandma Moses was in her late seventies when she began to paint in earnest.”

  Marge giggled and waved a hand toward the couch.

  “Toby should be here any moment. Have a seat. I’ll bring coffee.”

  “Let me help,” Maddy said, following their hostess to the kitchen.

  Warren walked around, viewing pictures of Marge and her family scattered through the room.

  “I’ll get it,” he called, when the bell rang.

  He extended his hand to the young man at the door.

  “You must be Toby. I’m Warren Conley. Marge is in the kitchen fixing coffee. Come in and have a seat.”

  “When Marge called, I welcomed the chance to be of service,” Toby said, making himself comfortable. “She’s a sweet woman who’s experienced a deep sorrow. I’m glad I’ve been able to help by safeguarding her finances.”

  Warren bit his tongue, knowing Marge’s experience with the scoundrel. “You appear to take your fiduciary responsibility seriously.”

  “Absolutely, Warren. I think of myself as a retired person’s best friend.” He smiled broadly. “I assume it’s all right for me to call you Warren.”

  It was easy to see what a char
mer Toby was, but his ingratiating manner rubbed Warren the wrong way. Nevertheless, he murmured assent.

  “Marge mentioned your collection of gold coins,” Toby said, with a glint in his eye. “My company offers a variety of services including purchases, storage, and sales. Are you thinking of adding more gold to your portfolio?”

  “It’s something to consider with the economic volatility we’re facing.”

  “It’s a smart move, believe me. These are troubled times financially. A sophisticated investor like you knows gold has historically been the ultimate hedge against instability. May I inquire whether you have an IRA account?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  Toby wasted no time making his pitch. “IRA accounts traditionally depend on stocks and mutual funds linked to the economy. When the economy suffers, the value of IRA accounts may plunge. On the other hand, gold has outperformed the stock market by over three hundred percent over the past decade.”

  Before Warren digested what was said, the young man plunged ahead.

  “Precious metals provide protection against inflation and the declining dollar. As the dollar loses value, people lose wealth and purchasing power. If the value continues to shrink, paper-heavy portfolios will be worth much less. With gold and silver, you preserve your buying power and safeguard your money from the effects of inflation.”

  Toby’s good, Warren thought. As Don warned, his spiel hits all the buttons engaging a person’s fears.

  Marge entered the room, ending their conversation.

  “There you are, Toby. How nice to see you again.”

  Toby rose to relieve her of a tray of cups and saucers. “Let me take that for you, Marge.”

  His expression changed to pleasant surprise when the other woman entered the room.

  She reached to shake hands. “I’m Warren’s daughter, Maddy.”

  Toby hurriedly set the tray on the table and took her hand. He spoke to the older woman, but his eyes lingered on Maddy. “You naughty girl, Marge. You didn’t tell me Warren’s lovely daughter would be here.”

  Marge giggled, and Maddy lowered her eyes.

  Warren offered an explanation. “My daughter has no head for finances. She’s here to protect her interest in the estate she will someday inherit.”

  A smile oiled its way across Toby’s face. “I’d be happy to explain whatever you’d like to know, Maddy.”

  She slowly removed her hand from his.

  “That won’t be necessary. I defer to my father’s judgment with regard to finances.” She locked eyes with Toby. “In matters of a more personal nature, I’m my own woman.”

  Warren choked, reclaiming the man’s attention.

  “You asked about my IRA. I suppose I could transfer part of those funds into an account with your firm.”

  Toby beamed. “It would give me great pleasure to be of service.”

  “Do you suggest rolling the funds into precious metals?” Warren asked.

  “That would be an excellent choice. There are other options as well.” He glanced in Maddy’s direction. “Why don’t you let me take you and your daughter to dinner to discuss them?”

  “I would be more interested in seeing your office.”

  A flicker of disappointment crossed Toby’s face.

  “No problem.” He took a card from his pocket. “Here’s the address. Call when you’re ready to come by.”

  “One other thing. I prefer to keep my collection in one place. I’m willing to give you the coins I have, but I need your assurance they will be stored with any additional purchases.”

  The oily smile reappeared. “Your wish is my command.”

  “Marge mentioned your vault is in Utah. I would be uncomfortable with my collection being kept in such a remote location.”

  Toby’s smile dimmed. He looked from Warren to Marge and back to Warren.

  “It’s true most of our inventory is stored in Utah, but we have a local safe for certain clients.”

  Marge looked dismayed. “You never mentioned a local vault when I expressed an unwillingness to go to Utah, Toby.”

  “Didn’t I, Marge? I’m sorry. It must have slipped my mind. But we took care of your concerns, didn’t we? Got everything straightened out without you making the trip.”

  Marge sat back, looking vaguely unsatisfied with his response.

  Warren stepped in. “You can show us the safe when we visit your office.”

  Toby’s hesitation was brief, but perceptible. “The safe is in an off-site storage facility. No use encouraging theft by keeping valuables in our office. You know how bad the problem with vagrants has become for downtown merchants.”

  “We will need to see that facility,” Warren said.

  Toby’s charm faded. “No problem. Let me know a day and time. I’ll make arrangements.”

  The young man stood to leave, appearing eager to end the conversation.

  He reached out his hand. First to Warren, then to Maddy. “I’ve enjoyed meeting you.”

  “Likewise,” Maddy said.

  Toby held Marge’s arm as she walked him to the door. “I appreciate you making this introduction. I’ll take care of your friends the same way I’ve taken care of you.”

  Warren smiled to himself.

  In that case, things are about to heat up.

  • • •

  After Toby left, Warren commended the women.

  “Good job, both of you. I believe we accomplished what we intended.”

  Maddy agreed. “Toby seemed eager to impress you, Dad.”

  “Hopefully, he’s poised to make bad decisions which will eventually trip him up.”

  Marge raised her voice. “Now that you’ve clued me in, I could barely keep from giving that young man a piece of my mind.”

  “I’m grateful you waited. If our plan works as expected, you’ll receive greater satisfaction by carrying out our little charade.”

  “I hope so,” Marge said. “Toby deserves to be punished for the way he strips people of their savings. It’s infuriating to think he feels no remorse.”

  “I agree,” Warren said. “There’s a disconnect between Toby’s view of himself and his actions. He doesn’t believe he’s doing wrong or acting in a way that harms people.”

  Marge’s voice filled with indignation. “What he does amounts to stealing. How could he not see that?”

  “By refusing to acknowledge the consequences of his actions, Toby allows himself to cheat people without remorse.”

  “He’s like people I used to know,” Maddy mused. “Looking out for himself, no matter the cost to others.”

  Ignoring his daughter’s aside, Warren went on. “Toby takes advantage of people who want to believe there’s an easy way to get rich. He doesn’t see those who lose money as victims, only as weaker players on the bumpy road to wealth.”

  “Where will you go from here?” Marge asked.

  “I intend to give Toby a collection borrowed from my friend at the Commission. If he mishandles those coins, we’ll know about it.”

  “Do you think he’ll take the bait?” Marge asked. “He may lie low for a while.”

  “Our plan will leave him no choice but to act at once.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  “See you later, boss,” Pat called as she walked past Tom’s office. “I’m going home for lunch.”

  He waved her in.

  She hoped he hadn’t received a call they needed to respond to. She was eager to call Lea to share the latest on Cranston.

  “What do you need?” she asked, leaning against the door frame.

  “An explanation for why you seem distracted the last few days. Is there anything you’d like to talk about?”

  Pat was still unwilling to tell Tom about her stalker until she knew more about who it was. But she felt she owed him an explanation.

  She lowered her head. “There are still nights when I don’t sleep well. I wake up reliving those moments I thought Mickey would kill me. I know it’s irrational, but
I keep expecting him to appear.”

  “Don’t feel embarrassed to admit fear. It only shows you’re human. We all have a side that would surprise people if they knew. Emotions, thoughts, memories. All the stuff we hide.”

  Tom motioned her to take a seat.

  “There are ways to tame those demons. Ask yourself what’s the worst that can happen. Then decide if you have what it takes to prevent that outcome. You proved you do by getting yourself out of that jam.”

  “Everyone made such a big deal of me freeing myself from my captors. It’s what any cop would do in a similar situation. It doesn’t prove I’m a good detective, or that I know what I’m doing. How can I be sure I’m not a fraud?”

  Tom leaned back, resting his hands behind his head.

  “Most of us share concerns that someone will find out we’re not as clever or as strong as they think we are. And every time we succeed, we worry about whether we can do it again.”

  “I can’t believe you ever doubt yourself, boss.”

  He smiled. “What did I say about being human?”

  Seeing her relax, he went on. “The important thing is not letting those feelings dictate your actions.”

  For a moment, Pat considered telling Tom about the threats. If she was lucky, he could put her mind at ease by convincing her she had nothing to worry about. But learning of the sisters’ involvement might create problems between Maddy and Tom. Believing she should stay quiet, she prepared to leave.

  “I feel better, boss. Thanks for the talk.”

  Tom raised a hand. “Not so fast, Pat. I know Cranston came on to you when you served up north, but I get the feeling there’s more to your dislike of him. You seem to question the way he does his job.”

  She considered how to respond. The longer Tom waited, the sterner he looked. In this matter, she decided to come clean.

  “I’m sure you heard rumors of a scandal in the northern division.”

  Tom’s expression was grim. “That precinct has a history of controversial policing. I know they’re under review by Internal Affairs for planting evidence and pressuring suspects.”

  Pat disclosed her misgivings about how Daisy’s arrest was handled and her suspicion of a subsequent cover-up.