by DiAnn Mills
“We know,” Cole said. “Can you tell us what happened the night you robbed him?”
“Not much there.” He shrugged. “He came off the elevator and I held him up before he got to his car. Took a couple of credit cards and five hundred dollars cash. Mr. Moore felt sorry for me and didn’t press charges.”
Just like Detective Hernandez had told Cole.
“Did Mr. Moore talk to you after that?”
“Asked me to help him out once. Didn’t want his wife to know. I owed him for what he’d done.” He scratched the back of his neck.
“Doing what?”
“Had me follow his son, Lance. Thought he might be running with a bad crowd. Been giving him trouble. But after three weeks, I told him I was wasting my time. Good kid.”
“Back to the robbery. Is there anything you’d like to tell us about Mr. Moore?”
Greene moistened his lips. “Guess it don’t matter no more since Mr. Moore’s gone.” He peered into Cole’s face. “I didn’t tell the truth about what happened. I’m not a thief.”
“Mr. Greene.” Cole softened his tone. “Did Mr. Moore pay you to stage a robbery for the five hundred dollars in his wallet?”
Tori counted ten seconds. The thought of how Nathan misrepresented so many things was despicable, but unfortunately with all they’d uncovered about Nathan . . .
“Yes. I used to work for the Mercedes place where he brought his car. One day he asked me if I wanted to earn some extra money. I said yes, and we struck up a deal. He made up the part about a gun. I don’t even own one. Of course, I hadn’t planned on losing my job but I’ve been here a long time now.”
“Did Mr. Moore give you a reason for the staged robbery?” Cole said.
“No, sir. But I figured it out when I heard him talking on the phone.”
“What did you hear?”
“Told his girlfriend he’d taken care of his wife finding out about them. He laughed. Said something about ‘another one of my crazy stunts.’”
“Was he ever in the company of anyone else when you saw him?”
“Sometimes when he dropped off his car, a tall blonde was with him. He called her Ann, I think. But our conversations were private.”
Obviously Anita Krantz.
Cole thanked Greene, and they piled into the car to head toward the Texas City area, where Jose Aznar’s widow lived.
Max started the conversation beside her. “Who was Nathan Moore? The charitable millionaire, family man, and friend? Or a deceiver, liar, control mongrel?”
“Wish we knew,” Tori said.
Cole piped up. “He was an only child. Given everything. His parents taught him to make money and keep it. Unaffectionate. He said their lack of caring scarred him emotionally. Even that could have been a lie for Sally or Anita to be sensitive to his needs.”
She glanced in the rearview mirror at Cole. His face was scrunched, his eyes closed while he spoke. “Take about three of whatever you’re using to kill the pain. You look awful. We’ll have more info once we have answers about Krantz, talk to Aznar’s wife, learn the contents of the will, and view the London footage.”
Max took a drink of water. “Even with a note to speed up matters, the paternity testing will take one to two days, providing Krantz doesn’t object. If it goes to court, then we’re looking at a huge delay.”
“If she refuses,” Cole said. “Then chances are the baby isn’t Nathan’s. Then again . . . I’ve been wrong before.”
Tori listened while she drove. Nathan, who killed you—and why?
Tori noted Jose Aznar’s widow, a petite woman with dark hair and olive skin, lived in a well-kept mobile home park in Texas City. Her English contained a Hispanic accent. Her reddened eyes and the way she clutched a baby girl to her chest confirmed her heartache. Tori made the introductions, and the four sat in the living area. Her parents waited in the kitchen, but Jose’s widow refused to relinquish the baby.
“Mrs. Aznar, we are so sorry for your loss.” Tori reached out and touched the young woman’s hand wrapped around her child. “We will find out who did this, but we need help. Can you answer a few questions?”
She gave a thin smile through her tears and nodded.
“Your baby girl is beautiful.” Tori meant every word. Lovely dark hair and huge brown eyes veiled in thick lashes.
“Thank you. Her name is Sofía.” She blinked. “We were so happy, and he loved his job at the drill site.”
“We believe he was the target of the Hermanos de Pistoleros. Had he mentioned being afraid or said anything about the gang?”
“No.”
“I understand his cousin is a member of the gang.”
She nibbled on her lower lip and nodded.
“Did the cousin spend much time with your husband?”
“A little.”
Tori touched the young woman’s arm. “We believe the Hermanos de Pistoleros killed your husband. That means his cousin. We think this is César Vega.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Do you know where he is or any of the gang?”
“I don’t know anything.”
“Did he ever meet with his cousin?”
She nodded.
“Where did Jose meet with César?”
“He never told me.” The young woman trembled.
“We know these men are very bad, and we can protect you.”
She lifted a tearstained face. “I can’t tell what I don’t know.”
Tori would try a new angle. “What about Jose’s relationship with Preston Ustach?”
“He and Preston were amigos—friends. When Preston was killed, Jose took it hard. He couldn’t sleep. Shaky. Drank too much. Wouldn’t talk to me.”
“He want you to come to California with us,” the older man in the kitchen said. “Jose say he afraid for you and Sofía.”
The young woman turned to the man. “I will move back home with you, Papá. I promise.”
Tori caught the man’s attention. “Were you aware of threats?”
“Only what I said, ma’am. We just arrived here to help our daughter through the next few days.”
Tori thanked him. “Who were Jose’s friends?”
“The men at work.”
Tori, Cole, and Max expressed their condolences, gave Mrs. Aznar their cards, and left the grieving family.
Had Jose and Preston learned about a scheme that got them killed? Or had Jose laid the groundwork for Preston to be murdered and then outlived his usefulness?
TORI WATCHED SALLY dip pieces of tenderized chicken into egg batter for Monday’s dinner. Lance and Jack loved her fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and gravy. Tonight, Cole would join them. Although Tori enjoyed being with him, she could have easily slipped into her pajamas and eaten dry cereal in bed.
“It’s time I prioritize my emotions and think about the boys,” Sally said. “Cooking is just the beginning. When Nathan was alive, we had family outings, vacations, movie nights.” She stopped, her back to Tori. “Was it all an act? He said he loved us. I never doubted him. I never refused him. So why Anita? Who was this man who deceived me repeatedly?”
Earlier, Tori had told her about Vince Greene. “Cole said something today, and I wanted to see if you have the answer. Did Anita ever mention being involved with drama in high school or college?”
Sally turned to study her. “No. Are you suggesting she’s putting on an act?”
“Maybe. We’re looking into it.”
“Might have been a good reason for Nathan to choose her.”
Tori moved to her side. “Dwell on the good memories because if you torture yourself with unanswered questions, bitterness will destroy you.”
Sally squeezed egg batter and bread crumbs against her palms. “I hate him for the lies, for his last words to Lance and Jack, and for cheating on me with a woman I called a friend. It haunts me day and night. All the so-called family times will never erase the treachery.”
“Listen to me. If you don’t move on, Nathan succeeds in c
ontrolling you even in death. Because control is the bottom line here. Are you ready to be strong and lead this family?”
“I loved him, and it hurts. I want to hide in my room and believe he’ll be home and all will be okay.”
Tori drew her into a gentle embrace. “I’m so sorry.”
“My hands are messy.”
“I don’t care.” This whole case was messy.
After several moments of sobbing, Sally drew back. “I’ll be stronger. I can do this.” She stared at the raw meat. “A good reason to make the boys’ favorite meal. Nathan despised it. I—” Her cell phone rang, interrupting whatever she planned to say next. She looked at the screen. “I don’t recognize the number, but it could be important.”
“I can handle it.”
“No thanks.” Sally wiped her hands on a paper towel and greeted the caller. “Hello.” She covered her heart. “What do you mean? . . . I understand.”
Tori snapped her attention to her friend. Sally trembled, eyes wide.
“I can’t get that much cash in two days’ time. It’s all tied up in assets and the legal formalities of my husband’s death.”
Tori grasped her attention and mouthed, “Keep the caller talking.” She pressed in a request for the FBI to trace the call.
“I’ll do exactly as you say. Why are you doing this?” Sally set the phone on the counter. “He hung up,” she whispered. “He demanded two million dollars in cash or he’d kill Lance and Jack.”
“Did he give you a drop point?”
“No. Said he’d let me know.”
Tori grabbed Sally’s shoulders. “The boys are upstairs. You have bodyguards and I’m here. The caller doesn’t have them—it’s a cheap threat.”
“He said if I told the FBI, I’d regret it.” She raced from the kitchen. Tori followed her up the winding staircase.
“Lance! Jack!” Sally’s voice rose near hysteria.
The two appeared from the media room. “What’s wrong, Mom?” Jack said.
“Better sit down,” Tori said. “Your mother just received a call requesting money or you two would be hurt. But the caller has no idea the power of Houston’s law enforcement task force.”
“We have Dad’s guns,” Lance said. “Jack and I know how to use them.”
“Under no circumstances,” Sally said, her voice now even. “They are locked up, and I’m the only one who has the key. Our horror will not get either of you hurt needlessly.”
“Trust me and all those working to end these crimes,” Tori said. “The one responsible is getting bolder, which means mistakes are bound to happen.”
“Doing nothing makes me feel like a coward.” Lance clenched his fists. “The three of us have to stand together.”
“We are and will.” Sally took the boys’ hands. “Clear heads and doing exactly what Tori and Cole tell us is the best decision we can make.”
Tori smiled at the tender scene, but she feared what the bad guys could do before they were apprehended.
While driving to the Moore home in a rental car, Cole mulled over Sally’s predicament. One episode after another had threatened her and the boys—and made the task force look like the JV team. The caller had used a burner phone. The task force could have traced the call if the person had stayed on the line. The idea of failing Sally and the boys attacked him hard.
Cole crossed the Hermanos de Pistoleros from his mental list of caller suspects. They didn’t deal in idle threats. They would have issued enough firepower to take out the bodyguards—or at least attempt to. His theory of two separate crimes lingered. The Hermanos weren’t hackers but guns for hire. Hacking Nathan’s pacemaker took a special skill set.
This case had two criminals working simultaneously. But how did he prove it when he hadn’t been able to make an arrest? How many men had their fingers in every situation connected to the crimes? Had he lost all manner of reason or was he on to something?
Tori, Max, and Cole were smarter than these guys. What had they missed?
He wanted answers now, but the theories slamming against his brain took time to investigate. Already Anita Krantz was backpedaling the paternity test, wanted to discuss it with her attorney. Which told Cole her baby didn’t belong to Nathan. What was the deal there? Had Anita really told Nathan about the pregnancy so he’d include her in his will while she had plans to eliminate him? Would she work with someone to bomb a drill site and a gang to murder him? Her financials indicated nothing out of the ordinary.
Or was Cole simply trying to slide pieces into place and ignore the pain in his body?
Before he arrived at the Moore home, security footage from London hit his in-box. He pulled the rental into the parking area of a convenience store and viewed the report and images. The dates were from the previous September. Nathan had entered a bank in the city alone. While there, he established a presence for a new oil and gas company called Lance Jack Oil & Gas. Cole startled. Nathan had named his new company after his sons?
Playing the footage, he watched Nathan leave the bank with a man identified as a vice president. They returned two hours later. Cole scanned the report, knowing he, Tori, and Max needed dedicated time to analyze it. He swiped through the video frames, pausing when Nathan appeared late at night with a woman, a brunette, her identity hidden from the security camera. A name was mentioned in the report, a woman for hire. The remaining images held nothing incriminating.
Anita Krantz had access to everything in Nathan’s business and personal life. Time to visit her again and hope she didn’t lawyer up. If she was aware that Nathan had other affairs while refusing to leave Sally, she had motive for murder.
After dinner, Cole and Tori rode in his rental to Anita Krantz’s condo, but he let her drive. Tori had arranged for extra inside protection for the Moores while she was gone.
“Have you considered the times we’ve interviewed her at night?” he said.
“Has to mean something, but my body is too tired to figure it out. I’ll sleep on it.”
He chuckled, unable to stop the wheels from turning inside his head. “I know this looks like a spurned woman arranged the murder of her lover, and my gut tells me she knows more than she’s admitting.”
“Refusing to take the DNA test is a biggie,” Tori said. “It’s practically an admittance that Nathan isn’t the father when noninvasive prenatal paternity is available.”
“Would it even matter if he’s named her in his will?”
“True. The damage’s done with the affair. We’ll find out in the morning.” She frowned. “You’re hurting. I saw it all evening.”
“I’ll take meds when I get home. I’m tired of chasing these guys. Used to making an arrest in three days. Anyway, how are you?”
“I’m okay,” she said, but he saw the weariness.
Cole would have reached across the seat and taken her hand if she hadn’t needed it to drive. “For the record. You did kiss me.”
“I thought you were dying. You know, a send-off.”
“Next time, I want to be awake.”
Her eyes stayed fixed on the road ahead. “In your dreams.”
At the Krantz condo, Anita stood in the doorway, one hand on the door. “We have nothing to discuss. Asking for the test to prove Nathan is the father of my baby will not make it happen.”
“Why?” Cole said softly. “We’ll get a court order and eventually learn the truth.”
“It’s ridiculous. Of course it’s Nathan’s baby.”
“Then why the hesitation?”
She stiffened. “We’re finished without my lawyer.”
TUESDAY MORNING, Tori switched her phone to vibrate when she entered Jacob Farr’s office. Once seated, she studied Nathan’s attorney. He avoided eye contact with her and stared directly at Sally, which left Tori a bit apprehensive about the proceedings. Was he nervous? Why? In any event, Tori would listen to every word. In Sally’s fragile condition, her friend could easily miss a detail.
Jacob Farr folded his hands o
ver top a file. “How are we doing, Mrs. Moore?”
He had two strikes against him using the word we.
“As best as can be expected.”
“Please, let me again offer my condolences.” He reached for a box of tissues and placed it in the center of his desk.
“Thank you,” Sally said. “I’ve not seen the will. Neither have I false illusions about its contents.”
He studied her a moment. “Mrs. Moore, I regret your husband’s untimely death. Nathan was a good friend and client. I hope the authorities are able to find who disrupted your and your sons’ lives with this tragedy. Nathan updated his will a year ago to name a new executor. The executor declined to join us this morning.”
“Who is the person?”
“Anita Krantz.”
Sally gasped, and Tori took her hand. “I see. My husband had a peculiar way of forming alliances. Since he chose to make plans about the distribution of his assets without me, should I brace myself?”
“Ms. Krantz’s responsibilities are to ensure the estate is administered in a timely fashion, public notices filed, all debts paid, and distributions made according to instructions left by your husband. She has been asked to complete the tasks in accord with statutory requirements. You won’t find many surprises.”
Sally stopped him with the wave of her hand. “A question here. Was Anita previously aware of her role as executor?”
He sighed. “She claims not to have prior knowledge, and I have no proof otherwise. Nathan was insistent the contents remain undisclosed until the time of his death. Shall we continue?”
“Mr. Farr—” Sally arched her back—“I simply want to know the provisions made for my sons.”
“I understand. In addition to their college funds, Nathan provided that trusts be established for Lance Wesley Moore and Jack Nathan Moore. The trusts will be funded with four million dollars each, accessible when the boys attain age twenty-five, provided they are competent and able to manage their own affairs. Until then, your sons, as beneficiaries of their individual trusts, and with the approval of the trustee, may make certain withdrawals of funds. These are limited to additional education, living, wedding, or start-up business expenses, for example, and they must meet conditions set forth in the documents. I can read over those terms in detail, if you like, or you may simply take a copy of the document home to read at your leisure.”