Funny Money

by Traci DePree

  Chapter Seven

  Kate tried to think of reasons why Millie would act as she had when she’d exchanged the bills. The way she’d looked around as if she didn’t want anyone to see her...It didn’t sit well with Kate. She hadn’t had the nerve to talk to her, mostly because she didn’t want to believe what she’d seen.

  That night as they sat eating, Paul reached for Kate’s hand across the supper table. “Something’s bothering you,” he said.

  “I’m fine,” she hedged.

  Paul sat back in his chair. “I know you pretty well, Kate Hanlon. Something’s up.”

  “I...saw something today...” She paused and looked Paul in the eye. Finally she sighed. “I went by the SuperMart to talk to Millie about that envelope.”

  “So what did she say?”

  “Nothing. I didn’t get a chance to actually talk to her. It was what she did...” Paul’s brow puckered, and Kate went on. “She was acting secretive. I saw her exchanging money from a till.”

  “She could’ve been making change, getting a deposit ready,” Paul offered, though his troubled look spoke of his concern.

  “I thought of that, but it was the way she was acting—like she didn’t want anyone to see her...Like she was—” She cut off her own words. What was she thinking? Millie was Paul’s secretary. She was no counterfeiter.

  THE SUPERMART STORE MANAGER, Randall Randolph, was an odd little man who never seemed to look anyone in the eyes. He fidgeted constantly, and if Kate were to hazard a guess, she would have said the man had attention deficit hyperactivity disorder; in her day, that had simply been called hyper.

  She’d driven to the store on Sunday afternoon after lunch to investigate whether there was a good explanation for what she’d seen. There had to be some logical reason for Millie to have acted as she had. Millie hadn’t made it to church that morning. So Kate couldn’t talk to her then. She wasn’t even sure what she’d say.

  “Have you had any counterfeit bills show up?” Kate asked.

  Kate and Randall were in the layaway section at the back of the store, he on one side of the counter and she on the other. The scent of fresh cardboard tickled her nose, giving her the urge to sneeze. Randall pushed his thick black glasses up on the bridge of his nose.

  The man’s eyes narrowed, and he pursed his lips as if considering his answer. “Why do you want to know?” He shrugged, then fidgeted with a pencil in his hand and wrote something on a stack of papers on the counter.

  “There have been some counterfeits passed in Copper Mill. I wanted to determine how widespread it is.”

  “Uh-huh,” he said. Kate could tell he knew there was more. “I don’t know if you’ve ever worked retail, ma’am. But there are thieves everywhere. We catch them on the closed-circuit cameras. If anyone did anything suspicious, we would’ve seen it.”

  That gave Kate an idea. “Is there any way we could look at the footage from the past week?”

  “Footage of what?” He cleared his throat.

  “The jewelry counter?” Kate tried to make her voice sound natural.

  “What exactly are you digging for?” Randall crossed his arms over his chest.

  “I saw something when I was in here on Friday afternoon, and I just wanted to check it out...” Kate knew her explanation sounded weak, but she didn’t want to mention Millie’s name, especially if it was all a misunderstanding.

  “Judy Dunn and Millie Lovelace worked the jewelry counter on Friday. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt for you to talk to them.” His eyes squinted to mere slits. “But we do have rules about privacy here.” He sniffed.

  “I appreciate that,” Kate said, smiling at the man. “I really do. Is Judy here now?”

  “Sorry, no. She’ll be back Tuesday.”

  Kate sighed. She wasn’t sure she could wait until then.

  AFTER VISITING THE SUPERMART, Kate ran some errands in Pine Ridge. By the time she got home, it was getting late, so Paul had put supper on for them. The scent of onions and green peppers frying filled the house with its mouthwatering aroma.

  Kate moved into the bedroom and kicked off her shoes. She had just turned on the faucet in the adjacent bathroom to wash her hands when she heard the phone ring. Paul was still in the kitchen, and she assumed he would get it.

  As she moved into the bedroom, took off her earrings, and set them in the small jewelry box on the dresser in her bedroom, her mind returned to her conversation with the store manager. When he spoke of thieves, did he have a particular person in mind? She wanted to ask the question outright—is it possible that Millie Lovelace passed counterfeit money at your store? But how could she without destroying Millie’s reputation and career? If Millie was innocent, it would be inexcusable.

  Then she heard Paul’s voice. It sounded strained. Whom was he talking to? She made her way to the kitchen to see what was going on.

  Paul’s back was to the living room as he sat on a kitchen stool. “Amy, please try to calm down,” he was saying. “Where is he now?”

  Amy? Had something happened to Jake? Kate moved into the room and touched Paul on the shoulder. He glanced up at her and reached for her hand.

  “Yes. That’s okay. Really. Kate and I will be over in a few minutes. Do you have a lawyer?”

  Kate puckered her brow. What would they need a lawyer for? Finally Paul hung up and turned to her.

  “What’s going on?” she said.

  “Tim was arrested.” He stood and reached for the car keys he’d laid on the counter, slipping them into his front pants pocket.

  Kate stared at him, not comprehending what he’d just said.

  “Arrested? What for?”

  “The Secret Service says he’s the counterfeiter.”

  EVERY LIGHT WAS ON at the Lourdes’ home. The sheriff’s SUV and two dark sedans and several police cars were parked in front of the one-story house. Paul pulled up next to the curb and shut off the engine.

  “I don’t understand why they would think Tim did this,” Kate said, shaking her head. “What could he possibly have to gain by putting fake bills into the offering when he could’ve simply slipped them in with real cash while working at the bank? It doesn’t make sense to me.” She climbed out of the car and shut the door.

  “I’m sure they have some reason to suspect him. They don’t arrest people without probable cause.” By the gentle tone of Paul’s voice, Kate knew he was merely stating the facts. He wasn’t trying to be hard-hearted. “Let’s just try to stay calm until we know what happened.”

  Paul was at her side as they made their way to the rambler’s front door.

  “How did Amy sound on the phone?” Kate whispered as they waited for someone to answer their knock.

  “Terrified.”

  Kate’s heart twisted.

  Finally Agent Norris opened the door. “I’m sorry, but we’re in the midst of an investigation...,” he began.

  “I invited them,” Kate heard Amy say from deeper in the room. “I needed moral support.”

  The Secret Service agent mumbled something to another person, then begrudgingly opened the door wider for Kate and Paul to enter. There were two agents in the house, as well as a plethora of police officers. Some took photographs, while others riffled through papers in the small den near the front that Amy said held Tim’s home office and computer stuff.

  The young wife looked devastated. Her pretty face was red from crying, and dark circles ringed her eyes. Her hair hung like a damp rag. She breathed a stuttering breath as if seeing Paul and Kate there might bring on another surge of tears. Kate closed the distance between them and enveloped her in a hug.

  “Are you okay?” Kate murmured.

  Amy didn’t respond, though Kate felt the rigidity of her body and heard the quiet sigh she released when they pulled apart.

  “They have this all wrong,” Amy finally said, shaking her head. “Tim couldn’t have done the things they’re saying he did.”

  Kate didn’t see Jake anywhere. She wondered if he wa
s in his bedroom. “Where’s Jake?”

  “He’s at the neighbor’s. How do I tell him his dad is in jail when he comes home?” Her voice broke, and she paused to compose herself.

  She swiped at her tears with her hand, and Kate opened her handbag to get her a tissue. The bag was so full that she pulled several items out before finding the tissues at the bottom. She handed the packet to Amy, who accepted it gratefully.

  “What did the officials tell you?” Paul asked, leading the way toward the small dining room, where they took seats around the table.

  “Something about finding Tim’s fingerprints on some of the bills and his having a motive and easy access to real bills. He’s a bank official, so his prints were on file...” She shrugged and blew her nose. “It’s ridiculous. He works at the bank—of course his prints could be on some of the bills.”

  “Did he say that to the Secret Service?” Kate said, though it occurred to her that as a bank official he should’ve turned in any counterfeit money or at least been able to spot it more easily than a non-banking person.

  “Yeah...not that it made any difference.” The cuckoo clock on the wall struck seven o’clock. The little bird dipped his head with each beat, then retreated behind the tiny wooden door.

  “Where is Tim now?” Paul asked.

  “He’s in town, at the jail. They said he’ll stay there until trial, and if he’s found guilty, they’ll move him to a federal facility.”

  “We can take you to go see him tomorrow if you’d like,” Paul assured.

  “Thank you,” Amy said. “But I want to take Jake first thing, just the two of us.”

  Kate touched the young woman’s shoulder to reassure her.

  Amy rose to retrieve something from the letter organizer on the kitchen counter adjacent to the dining room. “I want to give this back.” It was the check Kate had dropped off from the previous Sunday’s offering.

  “No, you still need this,” Kate said.

  “Until Tim’s name is cleared, I can’t accept it. It doesn’t sit right.” She dropped it on the table in front of Kate, and Kate reluctantly tucked it into her handbag.

  Just then, one agent and a police officer carried Tim’s computer equipment out of the den in large boxes.

  “What are you doing with that?” Amy was on her feet, moving between the men and the front door. Kate and Paul followed.

  “That’s Tim’s stuff. You can’t just take it.” Her volume rose along with her anger.

  “It’s evidence, ma’am,” Agent Norris said.

  “It’s no such thing!” Amy insisted. “Unless you found scans of dollar bills on the hard drive, I demand that you put it back. All of Jake’s medical information is on that computer. We need it.” She turned to Paul, desperation on her face.

  But it was the agent who replied. “We have a search warrant, Reverend.” He handed the document to Paul. “This is clearly within our jurisdiction.” Then he nodded at Amy. “I’m sorry, ma’am.”

  Paul perused the warrant; Kate did as well, noting the right to seize evidence.

  Then Paul took Amy by the elbow and said gently to her, “We’ll let them have a look, okay? They’ll get it all back to you. Right?” He glanced at the agent, who shrugged.

  “Not if we find what we think we’ll find,” the agent said.

  Kate wished the man had more tact.

  “This isn’t right!” Amy said, twisting away from Paul’s grasp. “My calendar is on there—all of Jake’s treatments, new discoveries for treating CF...” Her voice cracked with emotion.

  “We’ll help you find a lawyer,” Kate offered as she placed a comforting hand on Amy’s back. “First thing in the morning.”

  Chapter Eight

  The next day was cloudy and gloomy. Rain was in the forecast, though it hadn’t yet begun to fall. Close to noon, Kate and Paul drove to the jail that was housed in the Copper Mill Town Hall.

  Tim Lourdes. Kate couldn’t get over the shock of the news, though she realized she didn’t know the man. What did she know of him? Other than that he had an ill child, had just moved to town and worked at the bank, she knew nothing.

  She and Paul had stayed with Amy until after ten the previous night. The neighbor brought Jake home long after the police and Secret Service left, which Kate was glad for, though she didn’t miss the accusing looks the woman sent in Amy’s direction. Thankfully, Amy seemed too distraught to notice.

  Jake had cried and cried when Amy told him the news. His pale face was blotchy from tears, and his body shook with rattling bouts as his cystic fibrosis made itself known. An image of Amy holding him burned into Kate’s mind.

  When Paul and Kate had finally left, Amy said she’d be all right, though Kate doubted the young wife would get much sleep. Kate didn’t either. Confusion warred within her. How had Tim Lourdes become the suspect when evidence seemed to point to Millie? Were either of them capable of the crime? She’d lain awake all night, thinking about it.

  Paul had made a call to a lawyer in Pine Ridge shortly after eight o’clock the next morning, though they had been told that a court-appointed attorney would be available to Tim if he needed one. The man, whom Paul said sounded like he was in his late eighties, promised to call Amy later in the day to discuss the case as well as his costs.

  Kate’s thoughts were interrupted when they parked near the Copper Mill Town Hall. The town hall was a no-nonsense two-story brick building with off-white trim. Maple trees lined the walkway leading to the concrete stairs and the double glass-door entrance. A breeze ruffled the leaves overhead.

  When they entered the deputy’s office, Skip Spencer was at his desk, his head bent over paperwork. Kate and Paul moved alongside him.

  “Mrs. Hanlon...Pastor.” Skip’s face lit in a slow smile when he lifted his face. “What can I do you for?”

  “We’re here to see Tim Lourdes,” Paul said.

  “His wife and son were just here,” he informed them.

  Kate nodded at the deputy. “How does he seem?” she asked.

  “Hard to say.” Skip shrugged.

  “Do you think he’s guilty?” she asked.

  “Trust me, the Secret Service wouldn’t have nailed him if they didn’t have solid proof.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice even though they were the only ones in the small room. “Think about it. He just moved to Copper Mill. No one knows him. He doesn’t even have family here. He gets a job at the bank; it’s the perfect cover for a counterfeiter. He’s smart. They say he’s real good with computers, which a counterfeiter would have to be in this day and age. His family is struggling with finances...” His words trailed away.

  “Can we see him?” Paul asked.

  “Oh yeah, of course.” Skip got to his feet and retrieved the keys from their hook behind the door.

  He led Kate and Paul across the hall to the first of the two cells the town hall housed. The keys on the large ring jangled when he raised them to unlock the cell.

  Tim lifted his face. He looked as devastated as his wife had the night before. He gave a halfhearted smile when Kate and Paul joined him in the cell, the door clanging shut behind them.

  Skip excused himself, his boots echoing as he walked away. Paul sat next to Tim on the lone cot in the small room. Kate took the single hard plastic chair across from them.

  “How was your visit with Amy and Jake this morning?” Kate asked.

  The agony in his eyes was difficult to deny. “Hard,” he said. “This isn’t real. It’s too bizarre...I worry about them.”

  “Amy’s shaken,” Kate said. “As anyone would be, but she’s a strong woman. She’ll be okay. Jake’s a trooper.”

  Tim exhaled a shuddering breath, though he nodded his agreement.

  “Did you have any idea that you were a suspect?” Paul asked.

  “None. The Secret Service asked me some questions at work, but they questioned a lot of people. I don’t get it. I didn’t do this.” He looked at Kate, and she studied his face. His eyes were wide, a
lmost pleading. “They said my prints were on the counterfeits.”

  “The ones from the offering?” Kate asked.

  Tim shook his head. “No. They said there were too many prints overlapping to tell on those. It was the ones they found at the bank.”

  “Do you ever fill in for the tellers?” Kate asked.

  “All the time. We all do. When someone has to take a break, one of the loan officers will take over till they get back. I don’t understand what’s so unusual about that. If that’s all they’re basing this on...” He shook his head.

  As Kate watched him, saw the waves of devastation crash across his face, she wondered if it was possible for someone to act so convincingly innocent and yet be guilty.

  Of course, she knew it was entirely possible.

  SHERIFF ROBERTS was in the deputy’s office when Kate and Paul returned with Skip after their talk with Tim. Agent Norris was there too. Skip placed the cell’s keys back on their hook and repositioned himself in his chair.

  “We’re sending the computer to our specialist,” Norris was saying to the sheriff. “Lourdes has passwords on everything.”

  “Excuse me,” Kate said to the agent. The men turned to face her. “Can I ask what it was that made you realize it was Tim?”

  The man didn’t hesitate. “The fingerprints.” He had a smug expression on his face, a stark contrast to the agony Kate had just witnessed in Tim. “As a loan officer, he shouldn’t have been handling the cash like a teller, yet there were several bills with his prints. I’m sure that once we hack into his computer, we’ll find enough evidence to put him away for a very long time.”

  “The counterfeits felt like real money,” she observed. “Did your experts have an explanation for that?”

  The agent furrowed his brow as if he didn’t like her questions.

  “I didn’t mean to pry,” Kate quickly said. “I’m just curious.” She felt her face flame.

  “The thing now is,” the agent offered, “even though we have Mr. Lourdes in custody, any bills that surface could simply be ones that he put into circulation earlier—there’s no way to know. And if he had an accomplice, perhaps his wife...”