Double Deception

by Terri Reed

  Within a few moments, Gordon Thomas was on the line. “Sheriff. To what do I owe the honor?”

  “Kate Wheeler has been taken into custody in Boston by the FBI. She needs her lawyer.”

  There was a prolonged silence.

  “Did you hear me?” Brody demanded. “Kate needs you.”

  “Does the FBI have the disk?”

  Gordon’s calm tone grated on Brody’s nerves. What was wrong with the man? Brody frowned. “Yes.”

  “I’m leaving now,” Gordon said abruptly and then hung up.

  Brody returned the receiver to its cradle. He should feel better knowing that Kate’s lawyer was on his way. But the man still had to fly clear across the country, which would take time. Time that Kate would spend behind bars.

  There had to be something he was missing.

  Maybe he was looking at this all wrong. Instead of trying to find Petrov’s beginnings, he should have been concentrating on Paul’s ending. There had to be someone else involved.

  Brody would pick apart Paul Wheeler’s life. He’d work backwards through Paul’s life until he found the connection that would unravel the web of deception surrounding Kate. Because only then would he be able to think about their future together.

  His brothers and mother entered the room.

  “What now, Brody?” asked Ryan.

  Brody didn’t have an answer to that.

  “Would you please tell me what’s going on?” Colleen asked.

  Brody headed toward the door. “When I come back I’ll tell you everything.”

  “Where are you going?” Patrick asked.

  Brody paused with his hand on the doorknob. “I’m going to find some way to help Kate.”

  He left the house and hurried through the park back to the station. He blew through the doors and headed straight for Gabe’s desk. “I need your help again.”

  Gabe’s eyes narrowed. “What? Someone empty out your pension fund?”

  “Worse. The FBI took Kate into custody.”

  Gabe rolled his eyes. “Back to her, are we?”

  Brody didn’t have time for his friend’s cynicism. “Look. I want to dissect her late husband’s life. This time I want to work backwards starting with Paul Wheeler. I want to run background checks on anyone he or Kate had dealings with, starting with their lawyer. I want to tear this identity apart.”

  “That’s a big order.” Gabe set his elbows on the desk and steepled his fingers. “You sure she’s worth it?”

  Gabe’s question wasn’t surprising. He’d seen what had happened with Elise. But even before that, Gabe had been the perennial bachelor. Always scoffing at others who had found love. Predicting every relationship’s demise. And on the occasions when his predictions came true, he gloated, feeling proven right.

  “I love her,” Brody answered simply, honestly.

  Gabe raised a skeptical brow. “It’s different this time?”

  “Yeah, very different.” He was willing to lay down his own life for her.

  Gabe groaned. “Save me from romantic fools.”

  “You going to help me or not?” Brody snapped.

  “Yeah, yeah. Grab a seat.”

  Brody dragged over a chair. For the next hour, he and Gabe surfed through the police network of information. They sifted through Paul Wheeler’s life, then shifted their focus to Pete Kinsey. The two identities shared one common thread. Gordon Thomas was the active lawyer for both men. Heart racing with anticipation, Brody had Gabe delve into Petrov Klein’s life and the Lanskis’ import business.

  After digging through layers of misleading and miscellaneous information, Brody found what he was looking for. One of the lawyers acting on behalf of Lanski Imports in a small claims case was none other than Gordon Thomas. The connection was slim, but still there.

  If nothing else, it would give the Feds someone else to focus on.

  Armed with this information, Brody left the station and took a cab to the new federal courthouse. The Moakley Courthouse located right on Boston Harbor had a stately presence with its redbrick exterior, glass atrium and brass appointments.

  At the door, Brody showed his identification and was directed to the fourth floor where two agents, one with dark hair, the other with brown hair, both wearing dark blue suits, approached him. These weren’t the same agents who’d taken Kate away. He identified himself.

  “I’m Agent Brewster,” said the dark-haired man.

  “Agent Foster,” the brown-haired man said curtly. “Sheriff, what can we do for you?”

  “I want to speak with whoever is handling the investigation of Kate Wheeler.”

  “Right this way.” Foster pivoted and led the way down a carpeted hall to a small office with a view of the harbor. Agent Foster preceded Brody into the office. Behind the desk sat a balding man in his sixties who rose as the men filed in. Agent Brewster brought up the rear, shutting the door behind him.

  “Sheriff McClain, Special Agent in Charge, Frank Monroe.” Foster inclined his head and stepped discreetly back.

  Brody held out the file folder with copies of the information Gabe had printed off. “I have information in here that links a lawyer named Gordon Thomas to Paul Wheeler and the Lanskis’ import business. I think you should check him out.”

  Agent Monroe raised a brow. “We know all about Mr. Thomas.”

  “Then why is he free and Kate Wheeler in custody?” Brody asked sharply.

  Agent Monroe shook his head. “We have not secured Kate Wheeler’s whereabouts. We were under the impression that she was with you.”

  Brody blinked. “What? Wait a sec.” He fought the tightening in his chest. “Two agents took her into custody over an hour ago. She’s here somewhere.”

  Monroe exchanged glances with the other two agents. “What kind of game are you trying to play here, Sheriff McClain?”

  A very bad feeling gripped Brody. “This is no game. Two agents. Tumbolt and Heinsfled. They have her.”

  Monroe frowned. “We have no agents by that name in this office. Did they show ID?”

  Gritting his teeth, Brody managed to contain his anger at the insinuation that he’d failed to protect Kate. “Yes. They did.”

  Monroe picked up the phone. “Get me Quantico.” A minute later, he hung up the phone. “I’d say we have a problem,” Special Agent in Charge Monroe said grimly.

  A fist of panic slammed into Brody’s midsection, effectively pushing the air from his lungs.

  Recovering his breath, his forced his emotions to a far corner. Stay focused. He had to save Kate.

  And he had a good idea where to start.

  SIXTEEN

  Kate sat in the backseat of the Feds’ sedan, her hands cuffed uncomfortably behind her. She’d done this once before. The night Brody had arrested her in Paul’s home. Little did she realized then that she’d fall in love with the sheriff.

  Or that she’d cause him so much grief.

  The look in his eyes when she’d stepped out from the side of Colleen McClain’s home would forever be engraved in her mind. His stunned disbelief had given way to pain. On her behalf. His concern for her moved her deeply and had prompted her to admit why she was turning herself in.

  She’d shaken him with her declaration of love. She prayed he didn’t think her words were some ploy to garner sympathy from him. She prayed he understood that her feelings were true. And she hoped that someday she’d have a chance to reaffirm her words.

  Through the side window she watched the buildings, the neighborhoods, roll by. When the car headed for the on-ramp to the freeway heading north, Kate sat up straighter. “Uh, excuse me. Where are we going?”

  When no reply came, she leaned forward. “Hey. Where are you taking me? Why are we leaving Boston?”

  The taller agent sitting in the passenger seat glanced over his shoulder. “Headquarters,” he said succinctly.

  They were driving all the way to Virginia? Kate sat back and settled in, as best she could with her hands cuffed behind her back,
for the long drive.

  She must have zoned out, because the blast of a horn startled her upright in her seat. Heart pounding in her ears, she blinked at the sight that met her through the window. The Statue of Liberty rose like a beacon from her place on Ellis Island. They were back in New York. Kate craned her neck to read the passing sign. They were on the Staten Island Expressway approaching the Verrazano Narrows toll bridge that would take them into Brooklyn.

  “Hey, why are we here?” she demanded.

  Silence met her question. A tight ball of apprehension gathered in her chest. She would not be kept in the dark. She kicked the back of the front seat.

  The man in the passenger seat whipped around to glare at her. “Be still,” he snapped.

  “Where are you taking me?” she asked again as droplets of fear began to rain all over her, prickling her skin and raising the hairs at the nape of her neck.

  “You’ll see.” His mouth twisted into a menacing smile. Then to the driver he said something in a foreign language that sounded suspiciously like Russian. The two men laughed at some shared joke.

  The muscles in her throat constricted. For a moment, she choked on fear. What had she gotten herself into now? She tried to think clearly. Obviously, she was in the hands of Russian mobsters, on the way to some mob headquarters. How could she escape? She had to keep her mind focused and watch for an opportunity.

  But for now, the only thing she could do was pray because whatever path God had set her on, she wanted to face it with the same honor, integrity and bravery that she admired so much in Brody. He’d lost so much, yet he’d persevered. He hadn’t let the anger of betrayal turn him into a bitter man. Instead, he’d worked hard to overcome his past and make peace with it.

  The car pulled to a stop in front of Lanski’s Imports.

  Somehow she wasn’t totally surprised. Since Paul as Petrov worked for Lanski, it would stand to reason that Mr. Lanski would be involved with the Russian mob.

  She was pulled out of the car and led through the warehouse doors. She looked for an opportunity to escape, but being wedged between the two men with each of her elbows firmly within their grasp, she had little hope of getting away. Yet.

  She tried to catch the eye of one of the workers but the men working in the warehouse went about their business as if these two thugs strolled in with a handcuffed woman every day. Acid churned in her gut.

  Instead of being taken up the stairs to Mr. Lanski’s office, she was led to a large storage room with a concrete floor and no windows. In the center of the empty room was a single metal chair.

  A hot jolt of fear hit her square in the chest. She backed up as gruesome thoughts of torture assaulted her imagination. The men holding her by the elbows dragged her forward, their fingers digging painfully in to her flesh. Taking quick gasps, she forced herself to hold it together the way Brody would.

  “Sit,” ordered the man who’d driven the car. He planted his meaty hand in the middle of her back and shoved her forward.

  Kate stumbled, but quickly regained her balance. Figuring it safer to comply than to resist any more until she had a better idea what they intended to do with her, she sat on the cold chair, her knees knocking together.

  The men left, shutting the heavy metal door behind them. The ominous click of the lock sliding into place sent a chill rippling over her flesh. She tried to take deep calming breaths, but the musty stale air made her gag. What did they use this room for? Just to hold people against their will? How often did they do that? What were they going to do with her?

  After a few minutes she rose from the chair. Sitting like the proverbial duck wasn’t helping her to stay calm. She had to find a way out. She looked around. Knowing it was futile, she strode to the door, turned her back and tried the knob. No miracles there.

  With the heel of her foot she kicked the door. The metallic echo rang inside her chest, emphasizing the emptiness in her heart. She ached deep inside for Brody, longed for his steady presence. His protection. Did he know she wasn’t with the real FBI? Tension tightened the muscles in her neck and shoulders. Her head throbbed.

  So many questions still unanswered. So much danger threatening her life.

  Suddenly tired of all the intrigue, she sat back in the chair, closed her eyes and prayed. Prayed for rescue, prayed for Brody and prayed to understand why all this was happening to her.

  Brody had once said she’d learn to live with the unknown, the questions. As he had. Focus on the needs of the day, he’d also said. An overwhelming desperation clawed at her throat, choking her. How could she do that when she had no control over her present situation?

  But wasn’t that the crux of her faith? She had no control. God was in control. So instead of asking why, she needed to focus on God’s goodness. His faithfulness. And if she died today, she’d be going to Heaven and the answers to all her questions wouldn’t matter.

  Softly, she began to sing every song of praise she could remember.

  What seemed like hours later, the lock on the door rattled and the door swung open. Bracing herself, Kate straightened. The two fake Federal agents walked in, followed by Mr. Lanski and the two men who’d taken her from Myrtle’s deck.

  Then another man walked in, and Kate gasped with stunned relief. His dark hair, salted with some gray, was styled back away from his lined, aristocratic face. He stared down his patrician nose at her.

  “Gordon? What…How did you get here?”

  Gordon Thomas tsked as he moved to stand over Kate. “Ah, my dear. This breaks my heart.”

  With a quick flick of his wrist he addressed the others in the room in fluent Russian. Kate’s relief evaporated into shocked disbelief. She couldn’t have felt more betrayed. She’d always assumed he was of Latin descent with his dark hair, dark eyes and olive complexion.

  One of the thugs stepped forward and uncuffed her hands. She rubbed at the red welts forming on her wrists and rolled the pain from her shoulders.

  She stared at Gordon. He was tall, reed-thin and immaculately dressed in a dark suit that screamed designer label. A look more appropriate for a Beverly Hills lawyer than a Russian mobster. Or so she thought.

  She remembered what Brody had said about the Organizatsiya being well-educated. Obviously, they’d recruited law-school grads into their fold.

  “I never meant for you to end up here, Kate. I’d hoped you would find the disk and relinquish it without any trouble. But alas. You were so determined to discover the truth. I did warn you that the truth wouldn’t always set you free.”

  “I don’t understand. Why did you ruin my life?”

  “Oh, now. Don’t think it was personal. You were a convenient way for us to gain access to the bank. You and your mother were so needy. It was really an innovative plan. We waited for you to grow up and I very carefully steered you toward banking. You had such potential. We knew you’d do well at the bank. You exceeded our expectations. Vice President of Operations. Very nice.” He smiled in the fatherly way that had brought her such comfort over the years. Bile rose in her throat.

  “It was such an easy thing to plant a camera in your home office to obtain your passwords which gained us access to the bank.” He shook his head, his expression rueful. “Only, poor Petrov fell in love.”

  For a second, old dreams stirred, but were instantly obliterated by reality. Her stomach clenched. “With Olga.”

  Gordon nodded. “True. And he could have had her if he’d just stayed with the program for a bit longer.”

  Kate hated being referred to as the program, as if her life meant nothing more than a means to their end. They’d orchestrated her marriage and her career. And she’d danced merrily to their tune like a puppet on a string. “Why did you kill him?”

  “The disk. We found out he’d been compiling information and recording it all. He’d said he wanted out and the disk was insurance. Ha! No one threatens us and gets away with it.”

  “Who is us? You and Lanski?” Her gaze swept over the other men in the
room. The thugs stared at her dispassionately and Mr. Lanski’s scowl deepened. “Are you two the heads of the Russian Mob?”

  He tsked again. “Really, Kate. You ask too many questions.”

  “You’re going to kill me anyway, right? So why not tell me everything?”

  He sighed. “Come.” He held out his hand. “I’d like to show you something.”

  She stared at his hand, hating the sense of doom seeping through her. After all this, she was going to die. But at least now she had closure where Paul was concerned. And she’d known Brody. Her heart squeezed with sadness and regret that they’d never have a life together.

  She allowed Gordon to help her to her feet. He tucked her hand into his elbow and escorted her out of the small room ahead of the other men whose disdain she felt like a thousand pinpricks.

  Gordon stopped as Mr. Lanski stepped close and spoke harshly in his mother tongue. The two men argued for a moment before Mr. Lanski waved a hand of dismissal and walked away.

  Gordon continued on up the stairs to the office where she and Brody had first met Mr. Lanski. He shut the door behind them. He pulled her over to the computer where the disk had been loaded. She wondered if she should tell him she’d already seen the contents but decided to remain silent. If by some miracle she got away, anything he said might prove useful.

  “See, here,” Gordon said, “Our business flourishes.”

  “Business,” she scoffed. “Money laundering, you mean.”

  He frowned. “No need to be rude, Kate.”

  She rolled her eyes. She had every right to be rude.

  “We have many legitimate businesses.” He went on to explain the workings of their operation.

  Kate listened with growing astonishment. The scope and ingenuity of the operation must have taken years to build. Assets from several legitimate companies were being used to fund several more illegal operations ranging from selling drugs to smuggling diamonds.

  Gordon went on to explain how Petrov’s parents were immigrants who owed their allegiance to the people who supplied them with a home in America. Petrov had done well in his American school and had been singled out and groomed to infiltrate American life.