Flirtation

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Flirtation Page 12

by Samantha Hunter


  “I’ll be down shortly, but don’t wait for me if you’re hungry.”

  Charlotte walked to the shower, relieved to have the interaction with EJ’s sister over with for the moment. As she stepped into the beautifully tiled shower, the hot water sprayed down on her as she realized with a deep sense of resignation that it might be the least of the troubles facing her in the days ahead.

  “WHAT DID YOU FIND?”

  Ian crossed the lab, pulling a chair up next to Sarah, hoping whatever she’d found was good news. He didn’t know where EJ was—no one knew.

  EJ had called once to check on Nate Donovan and update Ian. Though the man who’d grabbed Charlotte was long gone by the time they’d arrived, EJ was able to give them a name to track down. Ian had put that in Sarah’s capable hands while he’d gone home to check on Sage, who was teetering on the edge of childbirth and sanity. Ian felt pulled in so many directions that he could barely keep up.

  So at this point, though they could find EJ if they tried hard enough, he was more inclined to trust his friend’s instincts and help where he could. They’d been friends and colleagues too long for Ian to cast doubt now. But it was clear from the expression on Sarah’s face that she didn’t have good news.

  “EJ may be in much deeper trouble than he suspected.”

  She turned the screen toward him, lowering her voice—a sure signal that whatever she’d found, she’d skipped over a few federal computer privacy laws to do it.

  “Tell me.”

  “Okay. Well, I tracked down the numbers we found on the documents they took out of Ronny Fulsom’s place, and they led to offshore accounts in the Caymans—big money that’s been accumulated bits at a time. The accounts were listed in the brother’s name with Charlotte listed second on the account.”

  “Of which she has no idea, as EJ would have it,” Ian said.

  “EJ might be wrong.”

  “Not likely.”

  “There’s always a first time,” Sarah said sharply.

  Ian studied Sarah, who was being more pit-bullish than usual.

  “Why are you so down on this woman? So quick to believe she’s guilty, when it’s obvious EJ doesn’t think so?” he asked.

  Sarah didn’t meet Ian’s eyes, and continued tapping keys and studying the screen as she spoke, shrugging. “I don’t know if she’s guilty or not, but I know how men get around a woman they’re attracted to. Common sense can go out the window.”

  Ian grinned. “And women don’t suffer that affliction?”

  “Not me.”

  Ian coughed to cover his laugh, deciding not to mention how mooney-eyed his tough-girl colleague got when her husband-to-be walked into the room. He turned his attention back to the discussion at hand.

  “I’m surprised you could get that kind of information from the banks—private accounts are usually kept that way, even from the law unless there’s a lot of pressure from the government.”

  Sarah arched an eyebrow, and looked only at the screen. “I went through channels. You’re right, they didn’t cooperate.”

  “So then you went around the channels, I take it?”

  She nodded, her mouth quirking at the corner. Ian shouldn’t encourage her, but he knew she’d find something. If something was on a network somewhere and Sarah couldn’t find it, then it couldn’t be found. The things she could do while sitting at a computer always astounded him, and he was frequently thankful he’d gone with his gut and hired her—an inexperienced, untrained hacker who’d simply been one of his informants—to join their team.

  Sarah had become one of the best cops he’d ever known. She was deeply committed to the work and to the people with whom she worked, which was probably why she was so prickly about EJ’s interest in Charlotte Gerard. She was feeling protective. So was he. But he also trusted EJ to do the right thing.

  “I was also able to hack into some of the transfers using previous theft victims’ information, and they match up.”

  “So we have hard evidence that the money stolen from SexyTarot.com clients was deposited in these accounts?”

  “After some rather lame attempts at laundering, yeah. If it was her brother, he passed it through a few points before it was deposited, but that was easy to trace. He’s obviously not a pro. But we still don’t know if it’s just him. Her name is here, too.”

  “Covering his own ass?”

  “Could be. Or could be she’s pulling one over on EJ.”

  “I find that hard to believe. He’s hardly that easy to pull one over on.”

  Sarah shrugged. “Men in lust will do strange things.”

  Ian had to agree, remembering his own experiences crossing the line with Sage. To say their beginning was rocky was an understatement—as a convicted felon, Sage had definitely been off limits to him, a federal investigator in charge of her parole at the time. But the attraction they’d had was stronger than the rules that would keep him from her, and a dangerous threat to her from a former lover, a mastermind of a hacker, had deepened their attraction.

  There was no reason to think EJ wasn’t in the same boat. Suddenly, Ian was kicking himself—hard—for letting his best friend walk away the night before. And he had no idea where he was now.

  “So, any ideas who was coming out shooting last night and who that gun belonged to?” Ian asked.

  “Well, I’d say it looks like Ronny and his sister—if she’s involved—managed to rip off the wrong person this time. There was one large score, the last entry on the account. The name I was able to trace the license to was an alias, so I’m running it through the federal databases to see if we get a match. My guess is, from the hit on the house and what EJ reported last night, that whoever it is has a lot of resources. Not people you want to rip off.”

  “You think it’s someone in organized crime?”

  “Just a guess, but the ballistics from the shooting last night would seem to back it up. High-end weaponry, not stuff your average teenagers use for random drive-bys. And untraceable,” she added.

  Ian peered through the glass, watching the morning buzz as the offices swung into high gear. “Then EJ could be right about an inside leak.”

  No cop liked to admit it, but organized crime’s tentacles reached far and wide, and sometimes found their way a little too easily into law enforcement agencies. A dirty cop could make a lot of money and send his kids to college a lot easier just by making a few phone calls here and there, or by overlooking things from time to time.

  “Could be. Or they just could have had eyes in the neighborhood. Safest place for EJ and his new girlfriend could be right here, but it’s hard to say.”

  Ian looked at Sarah speculatively. “You’re worried about him.”

  She bit her lip, her expression not changing much as she studied the screen. Sarah was such a tough cookie, but Ian knew she was close to EJ. He’d actually been surprised when they’d ended up only as friends.

  “Aren’t you?” she countered.

  “Yeah.”

  She spat out a curse, a mild one, her eyes on the screen. “We’ve got a name match on the guy from the bar, now we can really do some digging.”

  It didn’t take long. Ian didn’t recognize the name that Sarah scratched on a piece of paper, and he paced, walking back to the other side of the lab, strategizing as Sarah’s hands flew over the keyboard.

  “Man, oh, man.”

  Her whisper pulled him back to her side, and Ian looked at the screen, his stomach dropping out a little.

  The guy with the gun was linked with Lou Maloso.

  Sarah sat back blowing out a breath. “This is just un-friggin-believable. The putz stole from one of the biggest crime bosses on the eastern seaboard. He swiped twenty grand right off of his credit card. Holy mama.”

  Sarah talked aloud to herself while she worked, a habit she’d never quite been able to break, but she was echoing Ian’s thoughts. He watched her as she leaned in, her fingers running furiously over the keyboard, muttering to herself while
she honed in.

  “And there’s the final piece—it all fits.”

  “Show me,” Ian said.

  Sarah had hacked into SexyTarot.com, and looked at a customer file. All the people who had signed on for readings were listed, with their credit card information under the registration page. It was basically secure, unless you could hack your way in, as Sarah had done, but that would leave evidence behind. But if someone had Charlotte’s laptop with her user name and password checked off to be saved, as many people did, for quick access, then anyone, including her brother, could have gotten that account information.

  Ian scanned the list, wondering what it was Sarah was looking for. EJB showed up several times, but then he turned his gaze to where Sarah’s finger was pointing to on the screen—the user name: LOU52.

  So it looked like one of the major mafioso on the east coast had signed up for tarot readings about his love life. Ian shook his head; it would almost be laughable if it weren’t EJ’s neck on the chopping block right now. Maloso might not be after EJ, but he was after Charlotte and her brother, and EJ was in the way.

  “I’m calling EJ now.” Ian ran a hand over his face. Wherever his best friend was, Ian hoped they were well out of sight.

  CHARLOTTE FELT AS IF she were in a movie, or some other place that wasn’t quite real as she and EJ walked along a beach that seemed to stretch out forever.

  She’d never seen any of the National Seashore before, even though another section of it in Cape Cod had only been hours away from her when she lived in New Hampshire. It was wild and sprawling, and she laughed as the water chased her bare feet. The tide was coming in, and she stopped, frozen in awe as she saw horses calmly chewing on greens just a few yards ahead of them.

  “I’d heard about this, but I can’t believe I’m seeing it.”

  “Yeah. They’re amazing, aren’t they? Once used by settlers here, but left on their own they’ve reverted to their wild state.”

  “They’re small, like ponies.”

  “The diet they get here isn’t great, so their size is smaller to adapt. Marsh grasses and such. The caretakers keep the herd small, too, to help avoid them destroying the area, trampling and eating everything.”

  Charlotte frowned. “They kill them?”

  “No, in Virginia, in Chincoteague, it’s a yearly event to go to the pony penning—haven’t you heard of it? It’s usually in the news even in Norfolk.”

  “I may have, but I don’t recall.”

  “It’s quite the event. They have ‘saltwater cowboys’ who corral the herd when they swim across a channel at slack tide, with everyone watching, and they take the foals and auction them off to new owners. The proceeds go to various groups, and the new owners are held to strict standards for humane ownership of their horses.”

  “They don’t do that here in Maryland?”

  “No, the herd had grown here, and they are using some dart-injected contraceptives to prevent more reproduction.”

  “Oh. That’s good.”

  They were suddenly quiet, the talk of contraception reminding them of last night.

  “I’m sorry Charlotte. You have so much on your mind as it is. I hate adding to it.”

  “I’m not worried, EJ. Except about you.”

  He moved in front of her. “I told you, you don’t have to worry about me. I wouldn’t leave you high and dry, or any child I may have fathered, either.”

  “I’m not your responsibility, EJ, nor your obligation. I don’t want your money, I want—” Irritated with herself and almost saying much more than she wanted to reveal just yet, she yanked her hand from his and walked away. He was by her side again in a second, grabbing her hand back and swinging her around to face him.

  “Dammit, I didn’t mean to make it sound like that. I care about you, Charlotte, and I just want you to know—dammit!”

  The cell phone in his pocket rang, interrupting his point. He snapped it open with a force that had her raising her eyebrows as he turned and took the call in hushed tones.

  He cared for her. About her. What did that mean, exactly? She wished she knew what he’d been about to say. She saw his shoulders raise—whatever he was hearing on the phone it wasn’t good news.

  He clicked the phone shut, looking around them, and slipped his arm around her, pulling her close as if to cuddle her—or hide her against him—as they headed back toward the house at a pace that was much faster than the leisurely one they’d enjoyed before.

  “EJ? What is it?”

  He didn’t answer her question, but hurried her back to the house, closing the sliding glass doors behind them and scanning the beach and the horizon before yanking the curtain over. He noticed Grace’s car was gone; she must have left while they were out on their walk, discretion being a major value in Grace’s world. EJ was glad she’d gone back to the city, now that he had a better idea what they were dealing with. He didn’t want his sister anywhere near the danger he was in right now, and he was regretting he’d come to her home in the first place.

  “EJ, you’re freaking me out—what’s going on?”

  “Do you have a client named Lou Maloso?”

  She thought for a moment—LOU52—and she did see his full name on her registration list.

  “Yes, actually, how did—”

  “Oh, Jesus, Charlotte. He’s a mobster.”

  A what? She didn’t utter the words, but the question must have shown in the expression on her face. EJ planted his hands on his hips, nodding.

  “Gangster, mafia, wiseguy, organized crime—whatever they’re calling it these days. He’s one of the main men on the east coast.”

  She blinked, unable to really believe what she was hearing.

  “He didn’t come across like a criminal. He was just a nice man who’d lost his girlfriend, and he wondered if he would find anyone again anytime soon. He…gave me a generous tip.”

  He regarded her with open incredulity, and she sank into the nearest chair, trying to match up the pleasant and innocent conversations she’d had with Lou—who’d always been a complete gentleman—with what EJ was telling her.

  “There has to be some mistake.”

  “Ian and Sarah have uncovered the trail—the cops found documents with what ended up being bank account numbers in Ronny’s apartment. With your name on the accounts as well, by the way—illegal, offshore accounts. The man who tried to grab you last night? He’s a known associate of Lou Maloso. Worse, the same money trail shows that whoever’s been ripping off the customers that come to the SexyTarot Web site—probably Ronny—ripped off Maloso, too. Not a good scene. These are not people to mess with.”

  “But why would they be trying to get me instead of Ronny then?”

  EJ sat next to Charlotte, pulling her forward, his hand curled around the back of her neck as he nestled her face in his shoulder, and rubbed the soft skin at her nape.

  “Well, there are a couple possibilities. One, they need you to find Ronny, who is probably in hiding—so you are bait. They probably also think you may have been in on it, or know where he is, or why the money was stolen. Then, it could be that Ronny set you up to take the fall, and he ran off with the money.”

  He felt her tense against him, heard her soft gasp when he spoke the second option, but he held her in place.

  “I’m sorry, darlin’, but either way, there’s a heap of trouble going on here, and I’m not letting you out of my sight until it’s settled.”

  “But what are we going to do?”

  She pulled back, looking at him with desperate eyes, and all he wanted to do was wipe the hurt from her expression, to ease the pain of her brother’s betrayal and make her feel safe. She shook her head, her voice just a whisper, “We have to help him, EJ. They’ll kill him if they find him, won’t they?”

  “It’s a likely possibility. And it’s also likely, depending on what the whole story is, that they’ll keep coming after you, too. These people don’t take things like this sitting down.”

  �
�How much…how much was stolen?”

  “Twenty thousand from the credit card that Maloso used for the site, and then the money was converted to cash and laundered out of the country. It’s not a lot of money, relatively speaking, considering the millions of dollars that organized crime is involved with every day, but it’s a personal insult. Maloso may feel that you made a fool of him—he came to you on a very personal level and was betrayed. He’s not going to let it go.”

  “Lou should know that I wouldn’t do anything like that.”

  “Charlotte, these are not a trusting bunch of people. They live in a world where your best friend or even a family member can be your worst enemy.”

  She made a face. “I know—I’m not completely out of it, I have watched The Sopranos.” She huffed a breath. “So what do we do? What’s next?”

  “We stay out of sight.”

  “But Ronny—”

  “Ronny is on his own.”

  Tears stung her eyes and her chin firmed in resistance to them and him. “I’m not accepting that.”

  “You don’t have a choice.”

  “There’s always a choice. I’m not going to sit here while my brother is out there somewhere in danger, and I could be helping.”

  “How are you going to help, Charlotte? Exactly what can you do, except maybe get yourself killed?”

  She pondered the idea, wondering herself, until the obvious answer emerged.

  “I can talk to Lou.”

  “Pardon me?”

  “I can talk to him through the Web site—explain, let him know what happened, even return the money.” She sat up straight, her mind racing, convinced she’d discovered a way out. “I know what you’re saying about him, but really, EJ, he’s a very nice man, at least with me. He’ll listen.”

  EJ just stared, first in disbelief and then his own mind started working over the situation. Doing something was better than just sitting here doing nothing, waiting for the next shoe to drop. Could this work?

  Stranger things were possible, and talking to the crime boss over the Internet wouldn’t pose any threat—as long as they did it from a safe location. No doubt Maloso had resources that could track them in seconds, especially if he had mules on the inside, and so EJ would have to make sure they were somewhere untrackable. And he thought he might know exactly the place.

 

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