Double Cross

by DiAnn Mills

  Daniel pointed to a waiting area. “We could sit there. Do you mind answering a few questions for me?”

  She raised a brow over reddened eyes. “What about?”

  He sighed. “My grandparents have made a few comments concerning unusual happenings at Silver Hospitality, and I’m looking for answers. Both are clients, as I stated earlier. However Gramps has Alzheimer’s, and Gran spends her day with him.”

  She blinked. “The facility is so highly rated.”

  “I agree. I’m more than pleased with the care, and the staff is amazing.”

  They seated themselves on a leatherette sofa in the corner away from the others. “I appreciate your time, considering the trauma of the afternoon. Did your aunt ever mention someone selling her a life insurance policy?”

  Lila Dockson startled. “Why?”

  “So she did.” When the woman glanced out the window, he continued. “It’s all right. I’m facing the same questions. Money missing from my grandparents’ savings account. We’re uncertain exactly how it happened.”

  She dabbed her eyes. “Aunt Emma talked a few times about doing something special for us. We had no idea what she was talking about. We thanked her and changed the subject.”

  “Does the name Lifestyle Insurance sound familiar?”

  She shook her head. “Like I said, Aunt Emma babbled a lot. Can’t say if the name is familiar, but I can ask my husband. He’ll be home late this evening. Since you’re a police officer, is the facility under investigation?”

  “I’m looking into a possible elderly fraud case involving a couple of people at Silver Hospitality because of my grandparents’ experience. The FBI is making inquiries. My grandfather said your aunt had given a salesman money.”

  Her eyes widened. “Someone took money from an Alzheimer’s patient?” Indignation rose in her voice. “Why did the facility permit it?”

  “They have no record of anyone visiting other than family, friends, and clergy. Nothing on the security cameras or the sign-in register.” He paused for her to consider the lack of evidence to substantiate claims. “No receipts either. All I have is a brochure from Lifestyle Insurance, which has no contact information.”

  “How odd people with dementia have similar stories. One always hears reports of scams and such, but I find it hard to believe someone could have gotten past the front desk.”

  “That part has me baffled too. But elderly fraud is not uncommon.” Another thought occurred to him, one he’d need to investigate further. “How often has your aunt been hospitalized?”

  “Several times, actually.”

  The right keystrokes into a hospital’s medical records would offer valuable data from Social Security numbers to diagnosis codes. He wouldn’t reveal his suspicions—a link to dementia patients who were financially secure. “Have you noted a substantial withdrawal from your aunt’s accounts?”

  She touched her heart. “We take care of Aunt Emma’s financials.”

  “All someone would need is a routing or Social Security number to hack into her accounts.”

  Lila pulled her cell phone from her purse. A few moments later, she dropped her cell into her lap. “The account we use to pay bills is fine. But her savings shows two extremely large withdrawals, the latest from this afternoon. I can’t believe this.”

  “You need to file a report immediately. I can help you with that.”

  She rubbed her arms. “Of course. I need to call my husband before he boards a plane in New Hampshire.”

  Daniel wanted to ask one more question, one the family might meet with resistance. “Would you and your husband consider an autopsy?”

  She paled. “Surely you’re not suggesting—”

  “It’s a possibility.”

  “I’m not sure. Maybe we should, under the circumstances. What do you suggest?”

  “I only know what my grandparents have stated, and I could be way out of line.”

  “But you could have stumbled onto something horrible.”

  5:50 P.M. MONDAY

  Daniel left Lila Dockson at the hospital in the capable hands of a pastor friend. He’d love to be the one to break the elderly fraud case, but with the FBI’s investigation, his chances looked slim. His motives were selfish, and he retracted his thinking. The ones preying on innocent people needed to be behind bars, no matter who broke the case. Law enforcement was a team project. Period.

  He phoned Marsha Leonard about Emma Dockson’s death. The director of Silver Hospitality had always been the epitome of caring. Not once had he seen her act in an unkind way toward the clients or staff. For that matter, he’d not experienced her being rude to anyone. Except when he got under her skin. Still wanted to believe she was innocent of any wrongdoing.

  “Miss Leonard, this is Daniel Hilton. Do you have a minute? I have some bad news.”

  “Are Abby and Earl okay?”

  “They’re fine. Emma Dockson passed this afternoon. I visited the hospital and learned what happened. Spoke with her niece. Told her I’d make the call to you.”

  “Daniel, I’m never ready for our clients to pass. What happened?”

  “A heart attack. But Lila made a discovery. Money from Mrs. Dockson’s savings account was missing. A sizable withdrawal this afternoon.”

  Miss Leonard broke into sobs. “When will this end?”

  “I don’t know how the criminals are operating, but I’m committed to finding out just like the FBI.”

  “I’d expect nothing less of you,” she whispered. “I’ve gone over and over the security cameras, and nothing is amiss. The FBI’s investigation is a comfort, but you have more at stake in seeing arrests made.”

  Daniel noted her trembling voice. “Whoever is responsible is organized, precise in what they’re doing.”

  “It’s frightening,” Miss Leonard said.

  “I promise you, answers will be found. Do you use volunteers from a specific organization?”

  “Only from my church and those I can trust. We conduct rigid background checks. You and I have our differences, but we both care about the people here. I . . . I think you’ve made a wise decision regarding Abby and Earl.”

  “Thank you. Keep your eyes open, Miss Leonard. I’m convinced the situation is part of a sophisticated operation.”

  Daniel’s next call was to Laurel. “Hope I’m not intruding on your privacy. But I have new information. A woman from Silver Hospitality died at Methodist early this afternoon, one who Gramps claimed gave Russell Jergon money. Although I’m not sure if she purchased a life insurance policy, her savings account took a huge hit.”

  “I don’t like the sound of that. A scammer collecting both ways. But we knew this was probably where the crime was headed.”

  “My thoughts too. This is random, but Emma’s hospitalization was for bleeding ulcers, and she died of a heart attack. Probably just my cop nature, but I asked her niece if she’d consider an autopsy.”

  “The scammers are not infallible. Officer Hilton, be careful. You’re a great cop, and I don’t want to read your name in the obits.” The concern in her voice confirmed she had additional information.

  “What have you discovered?”

  “I’m no longer with the FBI, remember? They fired me.”

  CHAPTER 17

  7:30 P.M. MONDAY

  Once dinner was cleared—Gran’s homemade firehouse chili and jalapeño corn bread—Daniel paced his grandparents’ media room searching for the right words to explain the dangerous situation at Silver Hospitality. He prayed Gramps was coherent enough to understand. A headache hammered his skull: Emma’s death, Gran’s threat, and Laurel’s dismissal from the FBI.

  Daniel stared at his grandfather’s mammoth grand piano, the focal point of the floor-to-ceiling windowed room. He could make those ivories sing with the expertise of a concert pianist, and yet his mind hovered over the past and present.

  “Why don’t you spit it out and tell us what’s going on?” Gramps said, his eyes clear.

 
; “You’re in danger, and it’s my responsibility to surround you with those who are trained to guard innocent people. Gran received a threatening note today.”

  “How?”

  Gran took his hand and explained the flower delivery. “Whoever is involved thinks I’m feeding investigators information. But you were threatened. Staying home will protect both of us until arrests are made.”

  “You mean protect old and senile people?” Gramps said. “Told you earlier, I’m not deserting my friends.”

  Daniel took a deep breath and planned a new tack. “Gramps, I already made the arrangements. I’ve hired around-the-clock nurses and officers. The police officer outside will guard you until the officer who takes the first shift arrives at eight.”

  “Bodyguards?” Gramps frowned. “I have an arsenal to protect Abby and me. Who taught you how to shoot?”

  Gran touched his arm. “What if your mind slips, Earl? You and I’ve done a lot of hunting together, from deer to big game in Africa. The truth is I don’t know if I can shoot a man. I’m afraid I’d be too nervous, and he’d take away my gun. Use it on us.”

  Gramps buried his face in his hands. “I hate getting old. Losing what once made me a respected man. Can’t even take care of my own wife.”

  “Earl, you’ve protected me since I was fourteen years old. Seventy years of loving you. Let me return the favor.”

  “Abby, girl, no matter how far the big A takes me, I promise you this—I’ll always recognize you and know your name.”

  Gran kissed his cheek. “What more could I ask?”

  Daniel swallowed the thickening in his throat. “When I couldn’t take care of myself, you stepped in and showed me real love and how to be a man. You helped me see I needed God in my life. The arrangement away from the facility won’t be too long. Only until arrests are made. A nurse will be here at eight o’clock tonight and she’ll begin an eight-hour shift. The nurses’ shifts will overlap thirty minutes, and I’ll visit whenever I can.”

  “Will the officers be inside our home?” Gran said.

  “Only if you want them.”

  She nodded. “I’ll sleep better.” She walked across the room and hugged him. “Thanks. You have a good heart, Daniel.”

  He focused on Gramps. “Will you let me do this for you?”

  “Yes and no. Yes, I agree to your arrangements, but we’ll pay for it. We have more money than we can ever spend—minus eighty grand.” He lifted a brow. “Most all we have goes to you, not some swindler.”

  “Thanks. Now I have some sad news for you. Emma Dockson passed this afternoon. She had a heart attack.”

  Gran touched her chest. “Such a sweet lady.”

  Daniel explained the missing money. “Another reason for you to stay here.”

  “I’ll do all I can to cooperate,” Gran said.

  Daniel smiled. “Thanks. How about a song tonight? Joplin?”

  “You got it,” Gramps said. “Abby, prepare to dance.”

  Daniel’s phone rang. He didn’t recognize the caller’s number, but with all that was going on, it could be important. “Officer Daniel Hilton,” he said.

  “Back off from this case,” a distorted voice said.

  Daniel left the room and walked into the kitchen. “What case?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

  The voice cursed. “Yes, you do. This is over your head, cop. You got the wrong person’s attention. Now he’s upset with your interference.”

  “When it comes to my grandparents, I’m not backing off. Tell your boss that.”

  “Then you’re more stupid than we thought. Your grandparents aren’t in good health. Be a shame to lose them in an accident. Only a matter of time.” The caller disconnected.

  He’d notify the officers protecting Gran and Gramps of the potential danger. Double the men on each shift. If the caller thought Daniel would leave the case alone, he was wrong. Dead wrong. He’d call Laurel in the morning for her input.

  He walked into the media room and plastered fake enthusiasm on his face. “The police officer will be here in a few minutes. Good man. I’m anxious for you to meet him.”

  “Let’s hope I can remember his name from one day to the next.” Gramps’s dry tone indicated depression. “Some days I can laugh at myself. This is not one of them. I’m praying for a miracle drug. Dying and meeting Jesus is one thing, but I want to recognize Him.” He shrugged. “I’m being foolish. I’ll be healed then and none of this will matter.”

  Daniel considered how much to tell them. Did they really comprehend the danger? “Promise me you won’t leave the house without protection or let any strangers inside.”

  Gran slipped her arm around Gramps’s waist. “Whatever it takes, right, Earl? I’m ready to dance if this old man can make a little music.”

  An hour later, Daniel left his grandparents, glad he’d made the arrangements for their care and yet fearful for their safety. They liked the officer, who held several commendations and needed a little extra money for his daughter’s college fund. Daniel privately explained the call. The other two officers were good men too, men of faith and courage.

  He phoned HPD to check the number used to call him earlier. As he expected, a burner phone.

  Tomorrow he wanted to talk to Laurel. Perhaps she’d open up. But he had to curb the impulse to phone her too often when she had personal issues with her career. Made him look selfish, as if he were interested.

  CHAPTER 18

  9:15 A.M. TUESDAY

  Laurel learned from SSA Preston that Liz Austin was an alias. Her missing file had contained a photo, and her online file had been deleted. She was the insider. They’d hit a temporary dead end until she surfaced again.

  No man was an island in the investigation business. Teamwork solved crimes and put bracelets on the bad guys. Then she remembered.

  Wilmington made his exit today. Media would video his walk back into society with a recap of what sent him to prison. An interview too, and most likely at his lawyer’s request. Chances were her role in his takedown would hit the radar. They’d post photos from the past, the kind she’d pay to have destroyed. The whole city and state would hear about his conversion, his remorse, and his future plans of living for God.

  Media speculated on why she’d been dismissed from the FBI, most of it derogatory. That aspect helped lend credibility to what would happen later on in the week.

  Su-Min sent a text: Do not contact me ever.

  The finality hurt and yet Laurel had expected it. Didn’t make the news any easier even if it played into SSA Preston’s plan.

  The clock inched toward ten, when Wilmington would be released from prison. No doubt some of his fans who hailed him as Robin Hood would be on hand to cheer, along with media coverage.

  She brought up a live feed on her laptop.

  Wilmington stepped out of prison wearing designer jeans and a button-down shirt. He smiled and waved at the onlookers. She sickened. Those blue eyes might fool others, but she knew the evil behind them.

  This man killed Jesse, and now he wanted to look like he’d paid his price to society. Laurel’s nerves leaped in time to her heartbeat. How could she even bear to speak to him?

  An older, serious reporter spoke into the mic. “In less than five minutes, Morton Wilmington will speak to the press. His lawyer states he has a special message regarding his recent conversion to Christianity. From here he’s meeting with Pastor Emerson McKee of Community Evangelical Church, Houston.”

  Who would believe his trash? Had they forgotten the murderer who steamrolled his opposition? Could she really follow through with this assignment?

  12:10 P.M. TUESDAY

  Daniel clicked off the radio in his patrol car. Morton Wilmington’s release wasn’t a coincidence. Laurel had worked undercover to secure the evidence leading to his arrest, and now she no longer had a job. He took his lunch break to phone his best source for word on the streets, a
woman of many talents.

  “Hey, Coco. This is Daniel.”

  “I don’t work for free, sweet man.”

  Daniel laughed. “No one does. I need info.”

  “Hold on. Let me get something to write on.”

  “That could be dangerous if you’re caught.”

  “I have a code.”

  Another one who worked encryption. “Hope it’s a good one.”

  “Personally developed it myself,” she said. “I use words from my line of work.”

  Not sure he wanted to hear what they were. “Ready?”

  “Fire away.”

  “Are you charging by the minute?”

  “Business is business, and you never see me professionally.”

  And he wouldn’t. “All right—two things. Somebody tailed and fired at me the other evening. Had my grandparents with me. Then last night a caller threatened them. Have you heard anything?”

  “Not a word. Your chosen career isn’t safe. That could have been anybody trying to get to you by threatening them.”

  She was right, but the sophistication of the elderly fraud wouldn’t hit the streets. “What’s the word on Morton Wilmington’s release?”

  “How quick do you need this?”

  “An hour ago.”

  “This will cost you a little more.”

  “But you’re the best.”

  “Right. I have many talents.”

  “Cut the hype, Coco. This is important.”

  “Okay, I heard Wilmington’s men are laying low. They heard Monday about his release. Confused. He’s called a meeting with them late tonight. With all the religious talk from inside the prison, they’re either questioning their jobs or waiting to hear how business will play out.”

  “Job security in today’s economy is critical.”

  Coco laughed, a rough crackling sound that spoke of her addiction, booze, and cigarettes. “My rates have gone up.”

  “Last I checked, a warrant was out for your arrest. One of your associates turned you in.”