“The angle I’m pursuing is that he might be laundering, as well as setting up sketchy or fraudulent companies. Oh, and I almost forgot. His Porsche exploded the other day, and one of his associates was killed – right outside his office.”
Monte nodded. “I saw that on the wire. Definitely lurid, but hardly worth investing weeks of your time on, is it?”
“There’s something off about Terra. I haven’t looked at the others, but my gut says I’ll find something there, too.”
Monte considered for a moment. “I’ll give you some runway on this, Leah, but if it doesn’t pan out by this time next week, back burner it. And next time you have a promising story, come to me before you spend a week on it. Believe it or not, as editor I might have some perspective on a story’s interest.” He paused. “We clear?”
Leah met his eyes. “Perfectly. I should have approached you sooner. I’m sorry.”
“No lasting harm done. Just don’t do it again. I have to give Simon a report after this, and it helps if I know before this meeting what our star reporter is doing.”
“I get it, Monte. I’m sorry. But I do believe there’s a lot under the surface on this one.”
“I’ll trust your instincts, at least until next week.” Monte hesitated. “If cars are blowing up, though, you might want to think twice about kicking that hornet’s nest. Be a shame to lose you in the first couple of months.”
“I’m right there with you,” Leah agreed, recalling the DA’s words.
Leah went back to her cubicle, appropriately humbled, and was powering on her system when her cell phone rang. She eyed the screen and considered not answering it when she saw Heather’s cell number, but opted to thumb the call to life.
“Hello,” she said, her voice neutral.
“Leah! It’s Heather. Where are you?” Heather asked, sounding out of breath.
“In my office, working. Where else?”
“I don’t know what to do. The FBI was here all morning going through Richard’s stuff. They took just about all of it. And they raided his office.”
“What? Slow down. What are you talking about? Why would they raid you?”
“I don’t know. It’s crazy. Maybe it has something to do with his car? I don’t know. One of the junior partners called me, frantic, looking for Richard. But he never came home.”
“That makes no sense…” Leah mused. “What would the FBI want with Richard? Is there something you haven’t told me, Heather?”
“Leah, my husband hasn’t come home, and the FBI just spent four hours tearing apart our house. What part of that don’t you understand?”
“The why part,” Leah answered. “I’ve never seen the FBI act frivolously before.”
“I told you I don’t know why. Am I not speaking English?” Heather forced herself to calm down, and her tone was more even when she next spoke. “Are you busy right now? I could really use…some help. I’m not doing so good.”
Leah closed her eyes. She couldn’t tell whether Heather was trying to play her or not, but decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. Being searched by the FBI had to be one of the most stressful things that could happen. Leah tried to imagine what her friend must be going through, but couldn’t.
“I can be down on the peninsula in an hour. You want me to come to the house?”
“No, it’s a mess. I mean it when I say they tore it apart. It’s going to take forever to get everything back to normal. Let’s meet up at Starbucks on Marsh Road. It’s right after you get off the freeway. You know where that is?”
“Marsh Road? No, but I can find it.”
“Okay. Text me when you’re there. I’m only five minutes up the hill.”
“Will do.”
Leah terminated the call and thought through what Heather had told her. She had no interest in driving all the way to Atherton, but she wanted to confront her about Richard’s past, and that was best done in person. Heather might have been surprised by the FBI’s interest in Richard, but after learning more about him, Leah wasn’t. If he was involved in washing money for criminals, or running a scam like the insurance company, he’d be exactly the sort of white-collar miscreant the FBI specialized in.
Leah eyed the clock on her computer and sighed.
It was shaping up to be a very, very long day.
Leah answered some emails and prioritized the tasks she’d have to perform once she got back, and then calculated the best route to get to Atherton, given the time of day. Five minutes later she was on the road, headed south toward the Dumbarton Bridge, thinking through the implications of the FBI’s involvement in Richard’s affairs and wondering if the sudden asset stripping was truly about infidelity. Anything was possible, given the dearth of information with which she was working, but there was no question that having the feds in the mix changed everything.
She found the coffee shop with little problem and texted Heather. Ten minutes later Heather walked through the doors, wearing sweats, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, no makeup, and her eyes hidden behind oversized sunglasses. Leah went to her and gave her a hug, and then they ordered drinks and returned to Leah’s table, the lounge area largely empty at eleven thirty.
“How are you holding up?” Leah asked.
“He hasn’t called or anything. You’d think with everything going on, he’d at least do me that courtesy. I tried calling ten times, but it just goes to voice mail.”
“Tell me what the FBI said. Everything.”
“That he was a person of interest in an ongoing investigation, and did I know where he was. I asked if they had a warrant for his arrest, and they said no, but they wanted to talk to him, and that they did have one to search and seize anything they wanted to in the house. Apparently they did the same up at his office. I asked what they were investigating and they wouldn’t say, just that it involved financial irregularities, which could mean anything.” Heather seemed to run out of steam and gave Leah a bleak look. “They cleaned out his office.”
“You told me that on the phone,” Leah said. “I’ve been digging some, and one of the things I found on Richard’s laptop was a list of insurance policies with payout amounts and sales dates. Do you know anything about that?”
Heather looked away. “I know he started a company of some sort before he raised his fund. Something to do with brokering insurance policies. I remember he seemed excited about it, but I don’t think it ever went anywhere.”
“Then you don’t know whatever happened with it? Because I talked to a friend who said that what he was doing looked like it was way over the line.”
Heather shrugged. “Richard’s always pushed the envelope. That’s his nature. But he’d never do anything illegal. That’s…I just can’t see him doing that. Is your friend sure?”
“Do you know the name of the company?” Leah asked, sidestepping Heather’s question.
“No. I mean, he set it up and funded it, but he wasn’t active in it. I think it was some college buddy of his that did all the work. Richard just invested in it, as far as I know.”
“He didn’t talk to you about it?”
“Not beyond what I just told you,” Heather said. “Why are you drilling me?”
“I’m not drilling anyone, Heather. Your husband’s gone missing and the FBI was just at your house. I’m trying to understand what’s going on, that’s all.”
She frowned. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
“Did he ever talk about any of his portfolio companies?”
Heather grimaced and took a swig of her coffee. Leah noticed that her nails were perfectly manicured and lacquered, whereas her own were chewed to nubs.
“Sometimes. I mean, not really, you know? I didn’t really care about what he did for work, and he wasn’t big on talking about it. As far as I was concerned, it was just a way to make money. Every now and then he would ask what I thought about a concept, but that was usually if it was retail-oriented in some way. Most of his companies were boring technology stuff.”
/>
“Did he mention his first big deal?”
Heather shook her head. “No. Why?”
“I spoke with someone who was involved in it – or rather who was involved in investigating it. Apparently the company turned out to be a scam. That sound familiar?”
Heather swallowed another gulp of coffee. “What does any of this have to do with me? You think the FBI is investigating some deal from ten years ago? Wouldn’t the statute of limitations have run out on that?”
Leah stilled. “I didn’t say how long ago it was.”
“That was just a figure of speech.” Heather removed her sunglasses, and Leah could see her eyes were puffy and red. “Leah, I don’t think I like the tone you’re using with me. I haven’t done anything wrong. I’m the victim in this. My husband’s stealing everything that isn’t bolted down so I’m left with nothing, and you’re acting like I’m in the wrong. I don’t appreciate it. I thought we were friends.”
“We are, Heather. But your husband seems like he’s been involved in a lot of sketchy things. The feds being involved would seem to highlight that. I find it really difficult to believe you don’t know anything about any of it.”
“Well, I don’t. Look, Leah, our relationship was about sex and parties and living the life. I wasn’t marrying my best friend, and I knew he wasn’t either. But we were the best either of us could do, and we looked good together. Sometimes that’s enough. I’m not claiming to be an angel, or that Richard is, but the fact is we rarely talk about anything more than what restaurant we’re going to or where our next vacation will be. He has his life and I have mine. He doesn’t share about his business, and I couldn’t care less – just like he doesn’t care about what I do while he’s at work, you know? We’re like two strangers sharing a bed in that way.” She regarded Leah with tears in her eyes. “I know it’s a crummy way to live. I’m not stupid. But he’s handsome and rich, and that’s what I wanted. Sometimes you compromise. And sometimes, you compromise too much.”
“What if clearing the assets out has nothing to do with getting a divorce? What if he saw this coming?” Leah asked softly. “You’re assuming this was all about you. But what if none of it is?”
“I…” The idea that Richard’s maneuvering didn’t involve Heather had obviously never occurred to her, which was in keeping with her self-centered view of a universe that revolved around her. Realization played across her face in real time until all that was left was an ugly frown. “You think that’s what’s going on?”
“I’m just saying that I wouldn’t rule anything out.”
Heather waved a hand as she finished her coffee. “That doesn’t help me, does it? The money’s still gone, and I’m screwed.”
Leah had no reassuring comeback for that. Heather had cut to the quick and summarized the net effect of Richard’s actions, and she could see from her perspective that the why wasn’t important to her, only the result.
“You need to have a serious discussion with your husband, Heather. Don’t assume anything. The affair…I can’t tell you how to deal with that, but if you’re wrong and it has nothing to do with it…maybe you shouldn’t mention it. I don’t pretend to understand someone else’s relationship or what you’re going through. I’m just saying that things aren’t clear cut.” A thought occurred to Leah. “Did he ever mention his investors?”
Heather’s inscrutable mask was back in place. “A few times.”
“One of the things that’s come to light as I’ve been investigating him is that at least one looks like he could be involved in money laundering.”
Heather laughed nervously. “Oh, come on, Leah. Grow up. Most money’s dirty one way or another, at least the big money.”
“You learn something every day,” Leah said, liking her friend less and less as she saw how hard she’d become, how unconcerned she seemed to be about the source of the wealth she spent so freely.
“Richard says that all the time. Something about behind every fortune is a great crime. Again, he doesn’t really talk to me much about any of it, and I suppose I only pretend to listen when he does.” Heather stopped and blinked twice. “You think that’s what this is about?”
“I have no idea. But my hunch is it’s either this or maybe one of his companies. You know anything about his portfolio investments?”
“Not really. About as much as he knows about my last medical checkup. I told you, we aren’t that close on a lot of stuff.”
Leah finished her drink and pushed the cup away. “Did the FBI question you?”
“Not really. I mean, they wanted to know where Richard was, when I last spoke with him, that kind of thing. But other than that, they did their thing while I watched.”
“You’re sure they didn’t have an arrest warrant?”
“Positive.”
Leah frowned. “So what are you planning to do?”
Heather sighed. “Go home and start cleaning up. What else is there to do?” She eyed Leah. “Have you made any progress on the disappearing money?”
“Not yet. But remember I warned you this isn’t my thing. Right now I’m researching his investments and his investors, but that’s slow going. Plus I have a job, and that takes up some of my time.”
Heather’s expression softened. “Crap. I know, Leah. I’m sorry. I appreciate you coming all the way here to commiserate. I…I just didn’t know who else to call. The truth is I don’t have a lot of friends. Not real friends. People to have lunch with, but nobody I can tell about something like this.”
“What about your parents?”
“They’re getting up there. My dad’s seventy-two with health issues, and my mom’s recovering from breast cancer. I don’t want to burden them with my problems.”
“I can see that.” Leah looked around for a trash can and rose. “Look, Heather. I have to get back to work. Do the best you can, and feel free to call me if you need anything. I’ll be working on your thing all weekend, so it’s not like I’m tabling it. But I have other things that I need to get done for my job, so you may not see much progress for a bit. I’m sorry. I told you going in this might wind up leading nowhere.”
Heather stood and faced her. “I know, Leah. Just let me know what you find out. At this point I feel like my hands are tied until I talk to Richard. I think you have a point about that. I just assumed…”
“I figured. Only now you have more pieces of the puzzle.”
“Which still makes no sense,” Heather complained.
“If anything else occurs to you, or when Richard comes home and you talk, let me know. Text me or something.”
“Will do,” Heather said, and tossed her empty cup into the garbage. Leah did the same, and they embraced.
They walked out to their cars together, and Leah paused by the Lexus and shielded her eyes from the sun. “I’d say have a good one, but…” Leah said with a wry smile.
“Yeah. Well, I’ll try. Talk soon.”
Chapter 28
San Francisco, California
Richard parked his Range Rover in the parking lot at the southern tip of the Golden Gate Bridge and watched for several moments as the fog rolled in, clinging to the rocky shore on either side of it like torn cotton. He scanned the lot, put a dollar’s worth of quarters in the meter, and checked the time. Six o’clock on the nose. Traffic across the span headed north to Marin had slowed to a crawl at the approach. Alcatraz Island jutted from the bay to the east, and sailboats sliced through the waves nearby, spinnakers straining as they tacked, the breeze stiff enough to push them along at impressive speed as they pursued a final hurrah before heading back to port with the fog on their tails.
The iconic bridge stood 245 feet above the water, and he knew from his research that almost one person per week committed suicide by jumping from it. Safety nets were in the process of being installed, but it would take years to complete the project, and in the meantime the bridge remained the second most used for suicide in the world.
Richard took a deep breath. E
arlier that day, after having spent the night in a Redwood City motel that asked no questions if you paid cash, he’d had an Uber drop him three blocks from his home and watched the FBI raid his house from a safe distance. Once they’d left, he’d waited until he’d seen Heather leave the house, and then crept in to retrieve the SUV.
The Porsche exploding and now the fed raid signaled to him that something had gone badly awry, and everything he’d worked for was effectively over. No matter how the investigation went, he knew that his reputation would never recover from the damage. Nobody wanted to entrust hundreds of millions with a potential felon, even if he was cleared. He couldn’t blame investors for wanting stewards with clean slates.
The Porsche was a different problem entirely. He didn’t believe for a minute that it was an accident, and the only conclusion he could draw was that somebody wanted him out of the picture. The reason was immaterial. For all he knew, it could be related to the FBI raids. Whatever the case, his career was finished, regardless of how his portfolio companies performed.
He inhaled deeply, and the crisp sea breeze stung his nostrils, the air redolent of salt and the open ocean. It was a smell he’d always loved growing up in San Francisco, hinting at adventure and a whole other world just beyond the spits of land’s end, nothing between him and Japan when he looked west from the bridge. It was strangely fitting that he had chosen this place to end his stay, to bid adieu to everything he had and rush headlong into the unknown. He’d always been fascinated with the accounts of those who’d taken their lives by plunging into the arctic water below the orange span, and now, here he was, with only a half hour left before they closed the western walkway.
Richard looked around at the mostly empty lot and nodded once to himself. A foghorn groaned a sonorous low from the point to his left, the sound spurring him into action. He removed his lambskin jacket and placed his wallet, car keys, and cell phone on top of it on the driver’s seat, checked the time again, and then began the long walk to the halfway point between the towers.
A Girl Betrayed (A Leah Mason suspense thriller Book 2) Page 15