by Meryl Sawyer
“There must be, even if it’s electronic. Her bank records, most likely.”
Madison slapped the table with the palm of her hand. Aspen jumped up from where he’d been sleeping at her feet. “That’s it. I’ll get her records and see if the sums match what’s missing from my accounts.”
“You’ll need a court order, I think.”
“I might have her password, if what you say is right and people don’t often change their passwords. I’m going to log on to her bank account myself.”
“You go, girl. If that doesn’t work, contact the local FBI office. They have a whole identity-theft unit.”
“Pamela, I’m thinking Chloe applied for a job here just so she could move into online gambling. When I interviewed her, I realized she was overqualified for the position, but I hired her anyway. She saw we were an easy target, then Aiden fell for her and she’s in the driver’s seat now. What a waste. With her education, looks and trust fund, Chloe could have built something on her own.”
“Wait a minute. What trust fund?”
“Her parents are wealthy San Franciscans. Her grandmother left her a trust fund. Maybe she gambled through it.”
“I think she reinvented herself,” Pamela said. “According to the records on file at the university, Chloe Barnett went to Berkeley on a scholarship, but still needed a student loan. She had a loan for grad school. Her parents are high school science teachers in Fresno.”
“Really?” The implications of these lies sent a wave of excitement through Madison. “I’ll bet she invented the trust fund to explain having money from gambling or ID theft.” Madison bet Aiden fell for it. Served him right.
Madison thanked Pamela and promised to let her know what happened. She almost called Paul with the news but decided first to see if she could access Chloe’s bank account. She remembered the woman banked with Florida National because Chloe had written a check for a group wedding gift for a programmer.
She went onto the Web site and typed eolhc1chloe. When Chloe had first begun working for them, Madison had seen her type in her password. Her name spelled backward, the number one, her name again. Every programmer had a special password. They weren’t too secretive about them because programming trivia didn’t require it.
No luck. Florida National didn’t recognize the password.
“Come on, Aspen. Let’s go for a walk.” She snapped the leash on the retriever and he happily trotted along beside her. It was bright outside, a clear, sunny day without the usual shroud of humidity that was typical when summer neared. It was a day when it felt good to be alive.
She also felt as if some enormous weight had been lifted from her. Finding out about Chloe was part of it, but realizing how much she cared about Paul meant more. Her life was moving in a new direction. A career change was definitely in order.
Aspen relieved himself, lifting one leg on a gardenia bush. She spotted the deposit he’d left last night and retrieved it. The turd made her think of Chloe.
A bell gonged in Madison’s head.
“Here, Aspen. Here, boy.” She tossed the deposit into the trash, sprinted toward the bungalow, fumbled with the lock and finally opened the door. Aspen was right at her heels.
“Please, God. Let me be right. Turn the tide here. Let me get out from under one thing at least.”
She logged on to Luis Estevez’s bank’s Web site and typed in Chloe’s password. She was betting Chloe had opened an account at Allied Miami as a result of her alliance with the smarmy Cuban. Bingo! Numbers and transaction info filled the screen. She fumbled through the papers in her tote for the information sheets on the missing money from her account. The bank had given her the date and time of each transaction. If she could match it to deposits into Chloe’s account, she could prove what had happened.
It was astonishingly simple to match up the withdrawals and subsequent deposits. Chloe had zapped the money out of Madison’s accounts directly into her own. Even the cash taken from Madison’s credit cards appeared on the screen.
“How stupid.” If Chloe had been truly clever, she would have routed the money to another account, combined the money, then transferred it into her own account. That would have made identifying the transactions more difficult. Chloe wasn’t stupid, Madison realized, just arrogant. She hadn’t taken the extra steps because she never believed she would be caught.
Pamela was right about the money going to pay off gambling debts. There was very little in the account now. Electronic payments had been made to several online gambling companies.
“Print out three or four copies. Get one to Paul, another to his father, and put one in a safe place.” Madison was so excited that she was talking to the dog. She reached down and stroked his head. “Wait a minute. I don’t have a printer.”
She had her laptop but not a printer. If she didn’t print out the info immediately it might somehow be deleted. There was at least one printer in the main house. She’d seen it in Wyatt’s home office, but she doubted the staff would let her in there. It required a laser fingerprint for entry. Surely, someone on the staff had another computer with a printer.
She grabbed her laptop, locked the door and headed for the main house. Walking fast, she hit speed dial for Paul’s cell. It kicked over to voice mail. “Call me. I found the ID thief.”
She knocked at the back door and Marcella, the chef, answered. There was no printer in the kitchen or elsewhere in the house. Mr. Wyatt was in his office. They should call him on the house system and ask.
Marcella dialed, then handed Madison the telephone. “I’m sorry to bother you. I know you must be busy—”
“No bother,” Wyatt assured her.
“I need to print out something. It’ll only take me a few minutes.”
“Come down to my office. I’m just going over a few test results. You can use the printer without disturbing me.”
The house seemed mammoth; it took forever to get to Wyatt’s home office. He was standing in the doorway when she arrived. She maintained a friendly smile but her heart was beating in double time.
He showed her to the printer. It took her a minute to plug in her laptop and it seemed like an hour, but finally the printer kicked out four copies of Chloe’s statement. She reconsidered, then went back and printed out the last six months’ records, all that was still available online.
Her cell phone rang. It was Paul. “You need me?” He sounded harried or as if he had someone with him.
“I have info on the ID theft. I’m going to have Lance drive me into the fraud unit—”
“Don’t do that. I’m not far. I’ll take you.” She noticed he didn’t ask any questions. He was a stickler for not discussing important things over a cell phone.
“Okay.” She hung up.
Wyatt was studying her intently. “Sounds like you have your problem solved.”
She didn’t see any reason not to tell him. “Don’t say anything to anyone. I don’t want this person to get away with it.” He nodded solemnly, and she continued. “It’s my ex’s new wife.”
“Why would she do that to you?”
“She has a history of it, and I made it easy by not changing my password after my divorce.”
“That’s too bad.” He shook his head. “Do you think this will straighten it out?”
“I hope so, but it may not be that easy. The least I can do is alert the authorities and hope they can stop her before she does this to someone else.”
“Will you be back in time for dinner? I have a proposition for you. I can see now’s not the time.”
“Maybe,” Madison hedged. She’d hoped to have a dinner alone with Paul. She’d spent the last two with Wyatt.
“Let me walk you back to the guesthouse. I’ll tell you what I have in mind and you can think about it.”
“Great,” she said, although she doubted she could concentrate on anything besides nailing Chloe right now.
“You know I’m setting up a foundation to fund promising medical research. There�
�s a lot to be done. One of the most important things will be finding a director.” He held open the door to the terrace. It was the fastest way to the guesthouse. She’d gone in the kitchen door because she hadn’t expected him to be home.
She tucked the stack of papers under her arm and walked quickly toward the bungalow. “There must be a lot of well-qualified people who would love the job.”
“I don’t want some professional foundation person who’ll view this as just another business opportunity. I think you should come on board right now and train for the position.”
She stopped dead in her tracks. “What? You can’t mean that.”
“Why not? I’ve studied your record. A mathematics major trained in sequencing research and statistics. You could analyze projects and evaluate them as well as anyone.”
Her breath caught in her lungs and for a moment she was speechless. Finally, she managed to say, “I have no credentials. No one would respect my decisions.”
“This foundation won’t be up and running for another year or so. I hope I live to see it. You could train on the job.” He smiled encouragingly. “A foundation is better off with a well-rounded person than someone like Garrison. He’d just back sea-based research.”
“You’d turn down your own son?”
“No. We’ve discussed it. I think I told you before, Garrison isn’t interested.”
“Surely there is someone at your company.”
“Not really. A couple of guys are possibilities, but they’re too close to retirement.”
They’d reached the guesthouse, and she took out the key. If Wyatt thought it was unusual for her to lock the door just to go to the main house, he didn’t mention it.
“You aren’t going back to Total Trivia, are you? Why don’t you come see what we do? Then you can decide.”
“May I think about this? It’s so, so…unexpected. I’ve got so much on my mind.”
“Of course. Just have faith in yourself and consider this an opportunity.”
“I will.” She walked into the guesthouse. One thing Wyatt said was absolutely true. Once she turned Chloe in, she couldn’t go back to work.
CHAPTER THIRTY
PAUL WATCHED Madison as she told Special Agent Wells about what she’d found in Chloe Larsen’s bank records. The FBI agent nodded thoughtfully and glanced down at the sheaf of papers Madison had handed him. Now she gave him copies of her own bank records with fraudulent withdrawals highlighted.
“There’s not much we can do immediately,” Wells told them. “Her records were obtained illegally.”
“Can’t you find an excuse to do it?” she asked.
Wells shook his head. “We can watch her, and you bet we will. Apparently, she sold your ID information to a known fraud ring. They’ve tried to open several accounts in your name, but you were smart enough to have the credit agencies freeze your accounts.”
“I can’t get any credit, either.”
Paul heard the frustration and rising anger in her voice. They’d already been to the police department and were told the same thing. From the moment she’d told him what she’d discovered, Paul had warned her that it would be hard to act on illegally obtained information. The police were sympathetic and noted the information, but Paul knew they wouldn’t do anything about it. Paul thought they would have a better chance with the FBI. They had a special identity-theft unit. There were aware of Madison’s problems because she had reported the theft to them earlier.
“I’m sure she’s going to do it again,” Paul told them. “It’s just a matter of who the next victim will be.”
“Have the employees at your company been warned?” Wells asked.
“No. I didn’t think it was necessary. The only ones who make much money are my ex-husband and me.”
“What about this woman, Chloe?” Wells asked. “Does she have access to the employees’ personal information?”
“She could get it.”
Paul said, “You’d better warn them. Even if they don’t have a lot of money for her to take, she could sell their personal info to the credit card fraud ring. A gambling habit needs to be fed. She might just get desperate enough to do it.”
“He’s right. Warn them,” Wells advised calmly from behind his desk.
“You might want to contact Professor Hinson at Stanford University. I believe he can give you more information about this woman’s activities.”
Paul was a little surprised to hear Madison say this. They’d talked over the situation and decided not to involve Pamela Nolan because it might jeopardize her position at the university.
“Oh? What do you think he would tell me?” Wells wanted to know.
“I’m not sure exactly but it’s my understanding that Chloe Barnett, now Chloe Larsen, was asked to leave the university after a similar scam. He may have details that you could use.”
“Okay, I’ll contact him. It’s still early on the West Coast.” Wells stood up and handed his card to Madison, then gave one to Paul. “We’re going to get her. I promise. It just may take a little time. Be patient. Call me if you have any other details.”
They thanked Special Agent Wells and left. On the way out of the building, Paul told Madison, “Don’t be discouraged. I really think the FBI will do something.”
Madison didn’t respond. He put his arm around her and gave her a hug.
“It’s just so frustrating,” she finally said. “I wish there was something I could do to catch her.”
“I don’t think there is. You should warn Total Trivia’s employees. Don’t mention her name. She could sue you.”
They got into the Porsche Paul’s father was letting him use. “I’m going to drop you off at your office. I’ll come back in two hours. Don’t go outside of the building.”
“Wyatt had an interesting proposition for me,” she said.
Something in her tone bothered Paul. “What kind of a proposition?”
“He wants me to work at Holbrook Pharmaceuticals. He wants to train me for the job of foundation president or whatever title a foundation head has.”
Why? Paul asked himself. Not that Madison wasn’t smart, with a great personality, but her field wasn’t medicine or science. “Is this his way of making sure you donate?”
“I don’t know. I agreed to consider it. What do you think?”
“I want whatever you want. It’s really your decision.”
She turned away and looked out the window. “He invited me to dinner tonight to discuss it.”
“Go,” Paul encouraged. “I’m meeting with Trey Williams this evening to interview one of the guys that Wyatt said might have a grudge. I won’t be back until nine or so.”
“His offer comes at a good time. I need to get out of Total-Trivia. I don’t want to be around that horrid woman. I plan to do more with my life than create a game. I certainly don’t want to be a part of anything that encourages gambling.”
“I don’t think that’s a half-bad idea. But are you going to sell to Estevez?”
“No. I want Aiden to buy me out.” She thought for a moment, then said, “Did you take a look at Nathan Cassidy?”
“Yes. He didn’t make any trips to Boston. At least, none showed on his credit cards. Why?”
“I don’t know. There’s something about him,” she replied. “You know, these are the kind of people who use private planes.”
“Give me some credit,” he said in a teasing voice. “I thought of that. Nothing showed up when we checked around. Now there are a lot of small airports. We didn’t have the manpower to check them all.”
They drove the rest of the way to Total Trivia in silence. Paul was still puzzled about Holbrook’s offer. But it might be just the opportunity Madison needed.
THE MINUTE Madison walked into Total Trivia’s reception area, Jade cried, “There you are. Aiden’s been trying to reach you for over an hour.”
Madison had turned off her cell phone to go into the FBI field office and hadn’t remembered to turn it on aga
in, nor had she checked voice mail. “What does he want?”
Jade rolled eyes that today were coated with violet eyeliner. “I don’t know, but he went ballistic when he couldn’t reach you. I didn’t know where you were. He called the Russerts but they told him you moved out. They didn’t know where you were.”
“I’ll be in my office,” Madison told her.
“Aren’t you going to see Aiden first?”
“Nope.” Madison walked away. Let the jerk stew. She had to admit she was curious. Aiden seldom “went ballistic.” He was usually as laid-back as a Malibu surfer. The only time she recalled him actually raising his voice was when she refused to sell her half of Total Trivia during divorce negotiations.
Aiden was behaving oddly. She’d put it down to money troubles—Chloe having spent more than they had—but now she wondered. Could he be the one after her? Aiden certainly had the computer expertise to alter records. She didn’t think he knew about her and the Holbrooks but it wouldn’t have been difficult for him to find out. He could have a bug in her office or something.
She walked through the cube farm and nodded at several programmers who looked up as she passed. She had to tell them about the identity theft. She went into her office, dropped her purse in a drawer and placed her laptop on her desk, then took it out of its case. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Aiden sprinting toward her office. Boy-o-boy, something was on his mind.
A second later, he burst into her office, saying, “Where have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you for over an hour.”
“I was with a friend.” She opened her laptop and sat in her desk chair.
“We’re in trouble.” Aiden collapsed into the chair opposite her desk.
Madison sincerely doubted she could be in much more trouble than she already was. She calmly asked, “What’s the problem?”
“We’re not going to be able to make payroll.”
“What?” she shouted. “Why not?”
“Shush.” Aiden put his finger in front of his lips. “We don’t want the programmers to walk out.”