Payback

by Morgan St. James

  Of course he didn’t answer me. I was just baiting him anyway, trying to buy some time, because we sure didn’t have much left.

  Laganga came back into the room. When he opened the door, I noticed everything in the factory was quiet. No more whirring sound of machinery. Just silence.

  “Okay, they’re all gone. I’m going to lock everything and then we can decide what to do with these three. We cool?”

  I looked over at Mahood Vashti and Greg Clark. Vashti was pacing back and forth, anger all over his face. Greg Clark sat in his chair wringing his hands, head hung, shoulders hunched forward. His body language screamed that he hadn’t signed on for murder. Maybe if we could somehow get to him, make him afraid of what the repercussions would be if they were caught for killing us, just maybe we would have a chance.

  Caution goes out the window when you know your time on earth is very limited. I summoned my most commanding voice, which is something men never expect from me since they often perceive me as a ditzy blonde. “Mr. Clark, do you have any idea what it’s like to be imprisoned for murder? All three of us have toured prisons, and trust me, if you don’t get the death penalty you might wish you did after serving a lot of years.”

  I shifted my gaze to Jonathan Reid. “Oh, he makes you believe you’ll get away with it, but will you? Do you really think my friend Kim’s husband won’t go after his wife’s murderers with guns blazing as they used to say in the West? You obviously don’t know how high up he is in the Federal government, but you’ll find out soon. Are you ready to take that risk?”

  Greg Clark’s face turned an ashen gray while a red tinge crept from Jonathan’s neck up to his forehead.

  “Shut up!” he sputtered. “Just shut the Hell up. Greg, don’t listen to her. She’s just trying to save her own neck and her friends. We’ll handle it.”

  But, I’d gotten to Clark. He stood and said, “Do what you want. I’m getting out of here. Money laundering and making a nice profit for doing it is one thing, but murder? No! I’m sorry, but I won’t be part of it.”

  He started for the door.

  Vito Laganga clamped one of his big paws on Clark’s shoulder and whirled him back into his chair. “The Hell you will walk out on this. You’re part of it whether you like it or not. We get busted, so do you and we can’t have you being a loose end. Mahood, hand me some of that fabric.”

  Before we knew what happened, Laganga had tied Greg Clark to his chair, just like us.

  “Looks like we have one more to get rid of,” he said.

  Jonathan Reid went over to Clark and punched him in the face. “When you sign on with me, you sign on for whatever happens. We’ll miss you, but you’re easy to replace.”

  Things were happening so fast, I didn’t know what to expect next. All I knew was the three of us were terrified and I was sure that wouldn’t last very long. Hard to be terrified when you’re dead.

  40

  OF ALL THE CRAZY THINGS I’d done in my life, apparently this was the craziest. I wondered how they would kill us and where they would dump our bodies. Bizarre thoughts ran through my mind and I couldn’t stop them. I pictured us taken out to the desert like they do in mob movies. Or shot and buried in shallow graves.

  Laganga had gone to lock all of the doors. Greg Clark’s left eye was turning a shade of purple from Jonathan’s punch and he looked like he was ready to throw up. The air in the room felt like thick soup and I had a hard time breathing. A cold sweat slicked over me, dampening my blouse. Panic does that. Kate and Kim didn’t look like they were in any better shape than I was.

  What seemed like hours, but was probably minutes, had passed. I managed to look at the clock and realized that Vito Laganga had been gone longer than it should have taken to lock up the factory. Since the room was soundproofed, I couldn’t hear anything beyond the door.

  Then everything changed. The door slammed open and I heard loud shouts and a major ruckus coming from the reception area. In an instant our prison was swarming with the most welcome sight ever—agents wearing black flak vests emblazoned with the gold letters FBI, their guns drawn. I heard Vito Laganga’s voice yelling, “You have no right here,” over the other loud voices in the reception area.

  Jonathan Reid was eerily calm when he said, “These are private premises. I demand to know what’s going on.”

  However, the sight of the three of us tied to chairs plus Greg Clark with his blackening eye sort of told the story. One of the agents proceeded to untie us while the others kept their guns trained on Jonathan and Vashti.

  Once untied, my wrists and ankles ached with that awful pins and needles sensation as the blood rushes back. In fact, everything ached and I felt totally exhausted. When I tried to get up from the chair, I fell back into it, my legs like strands of spaghetti.

  Kate and Kim stretched and rubbed their wrists and ankles. Greg Clark moaned, “Thank goodness, thank goodness,” over and over again. We were quite the scene as we watched the agents cuff Jonathan and Mahood Vashti and then cuff Greg Clark. Poor Clark. Even though he wouldn’t go along with murder, he was part of the money laundering scheme. Since Laganga never came back, it was a sure bet they already had him in custody.

  “H-How did you find us?” Kim gasped. “Oh, my God. We were going to be killed. Killed!” She covered her eyes and began to cry.

  One of the agents went over to a pitcher and glasses on the sideboard at the back of the room and poured glasses of water for each of us. I gulped mine down as though I’d never tasted such wonderful water. Kate held the cool glass up to her forehead before taking some sips. Kim held her glass but continued to cry. When the agent patted her shoulder, she collapsed into him.

  “We had our instructions from very high up the food chain, as the saying goes. Let’s get you out of here and everything will be explained. I’m Agent Larsen. Hank Larsen. None of you are in the shape to drive, so I’ll drive you back to your house in your car. There are some people there by now who want to talk to you.”

  I inhaled deeply. “Agent Larsen, that man with the gray hair is Kenneth Monnigan, or Jonathan Reid as I have known him for many years. He owns the major interest in several of the businesses from the Fashion District, including this one, that have been part of a drug money laundering ring.”

  “Actually, we know that. You three have done an amazing job, and we thank you. Sorry it got to the point it did, but when that guy out there began to lock up and your car was still here it was clear you were in danger.”

  Kate said, “Our car? How did you know it was our car? In fact, you seem to know who we are. How is that possible?”

  Agent Larsen steered us out the door. “I know you have lots of questions, and everything will be explained. Right now the main thing is to get you three ladies back to Ms. Harsen’s house.”

  If it was strange before, it was getting wacky now. How did he know my name? We don’t put our registration on the steering post of our cars like they used to do years ago. But he knew my name. How?

  I SAT IN THE FRONT passenger seat on the ride back to my house while Kate and Kim slumped in the back. Kim still had little bouts of crying, but she was getting better. We inched along the freeway in typical Los Angeles stop and go traffic. Finally Agent Larsen took the Fairfax off ramp and swung over to Washington. “Always seem to make better time on the surface streets at this hour,” he said.

  He pulled up behind my garage, and we all trooped into the house. Something wasn’t right. The lights in the living room were on, and I knew they weren’t when we left. Had someone broken into my house? That would be the perfect ending to what had turned out to be anything but a perfect day.

  Someone was in the house, alright—the Director of the Homeland Security office Kim was working with, two more agents and Nathan. What was he doing in California and how did they get in?

  Kim ran to Nathan and fell into his arms, letting loose with full blown sobs. He held her tight and caressed her hair and back. “It’s over, Baby,” he crooned. “Y
ou did it, and just so you know there hasn’t been a moment you haven’t been under surveillance.”

  “Wh-what?” she choked out. “What do you mean surveillance?”

  “You don’t think I would have okayed this stunt you insisted upon doing without making sure you were safe, do you? You and my best and oldest friend, Cameron and Miss Fraud Buster, here, Kate. I’ve had a detail assigned to you 24/7. Oh, yeah, and there are trackers on all three cars.”

  I tried to appear indignant, with my hands on my hips and feet planted in a firm stance. “And you broke into my house?” Then I broke into laughter. “Thank God for you, Nate. I thought we were goners.”

  He led Kim around to one of the sofas and plopped down next to her. “If you super sleuths will calm down for a minute, we will fill you in on everything you actually accomplished. It’s way more than any of us thought.”

  They were interrupted by a knock at the door. When I answered, Detective McCrary stood there looking very uncomfortable. The day was getting stranger and stranger. What could he possibly want?

  The detective shifted from foot-to-foot as he stood there waiting for me to invite him in. When I did, he entered the room and stopped short. Nathan was very easy to recognize with his dark, handsome good looks constantly in the media. Although he didn’t know who the others were, I could see he knew they were important.

  As he stood there speechless, I said, “Good evening, Detective McCrary. What can I do for you? Anything new in the murder case? This is United States Attorney General Nathan Hartman—the man you spoke to on the phone a few days ago.” I pointed around the room. “Meet Director Aaron Kincaid of Homeland Security and Agents Brown and Selden. Please, have a seat and tell me what’s on your mind.”

  Clearly he was caught off guard. He acknowledged the introductions, then said, “Um, I think I’ll stand. I’m sorry, but this isn’t a social call, Cameron. Something new has come up in the case. We have identified the murder weapon as your ADDY trophy. There was a slight trace of blood on it, so we took it as evidence when your office was searched. The blood matches Tyler Cunningham’s and the bruise is consistent with the shape of the trophy. I’m sorry, but Cameron Harsen, you are under arrest for the murder of Tyler Cunningham.” He proceeded to recite my Miranda rights.”

  41

  IMPOSSIBLE! I WOULD have noticed if that coveted trophy was missing, even for the time it took to kill Cunningham. The ADDY is an award every advertising agency salivates for, and I’d won it that year.

  It was like a slap to the head when I realized I wouldn’t have known, after all. The night of Cunningham’s murder—the night I’d foolishly gone back to my office—someone had been there before me. Ramon could confirm that. He found the office door open when they came to clean.

  Before I could say anything, Nathan stood up and said in a very firm voice, “Detective McCrary, I want you to delay arresting Miss Harsen. I have good reason for this request.”

  He looked over at me because I was trying to say something, and he continued. “It looks as though Miss Harsen wants to say something. Please allow her to speak.”

  McCrary seemed docile as a lamb, obviously impressed by the importance of the men in the room. He nodded to me to say whatever I wanted to say.

  “The night I went to the office and signed the after-hours register, someone had been in my office and it wasn’t the first time. The head of the cleaning crew, Ramon, was in the office with his helper Marisol and said the door was unlocked when he got there. He thought I’d been there earlier, and went out for a few minutes, but I told him it wasn’t me. I’m sure he would remember telling me that if you questioned him. He also told me that wasn’t the first time he found the door unlocked. Somehow, whoever it was even bypassed my security code.”

  I cleared my throat, feeling more confident. “Couldn’t whoever it was have taken the trophy and used it to kill Tyler Cunningham to implicate me? That makes sense, doesn’t it?”

  I’d gotten McCrary’s attention. He scratched his chin and appeared to be running this possibility through his mind. “Yes, I suppose that could be the way it happened, but why weren’t they on the register and how did that trophy reappear in your office?”

  Oh, I had him there. I knew exactly how that could have happened. Nathan and the others leaned forward, interested to hear my explanation.

  “See, Ramon has a master key to the offices, and the doors have to be locked from the outside with a key. That means someone could have been let into my office, but wouldn’t be able to lock the door when they left unless they had a key. I guess they had some way of getting our security code. I hate to think it could have been any of my employees. Then, since I was taking time off, I called into the office the next morning and by that time everyone had heard about the murder either on the radio or TV. Maggie asked if I’d come in early to get something and forgot to lock the door when I left because it was unlocked when she got there that morning.”

  The more I talked, the more I could visualize what must have happened. The murder was planned before I even got to the building and someone was setting me up to take the fall. Somehow they got into my office, took the trophy and possibly murdered Tyler while I was in the building. It was actually their good fortune that I’d signed into the register, because that confirmed I was in the building that night. It was also their good fortune that Tyler sustained a cut that bled, or maybe they made sure that happened. Scalp wounds bleed profusely, but of course, that wasn’t what killed him. However, the blow did cut him and it did leave a trace of the blood on my trophy.

  The point where he was struck could produce the symptoms of a stroke which occurs when the brain is starved of oxygen-rich blood. The brain cells die and the person strokes out. I assumed the murderer knew just where to strike my unfortunate ex-boss as he bent over documents on his desk. It was a safe bet the murderer was someone he knew.

  Then the murderer got back into my office and replaced the trophy, but once again couldn’t lock the door. As for being in the building, if the person was in the building for several hours he or she would not have had to sign out, as they didn’t sign in. They could just leave, and there would be no record of them being there that evening.

  I summarized my theory for McCrary, and he agreed to check into it further before taking action. He acknowledged my visitors, then turned to make a hasty retreat saying that he would be back in touch. I knew Nathan’s presence had a lot to do with him backing off and listening to what I had to say.

  Talk about relief, even if it might be temporary. At least for the time being I was off the hook and I assumed McCrary would interview Ramon and try to find anyone who might have seen someone going into my office or coming out after hours.

  Nathan said they were ready to fill us in now on how they found us and everything else that transpired. Just as McCrary reached my door, Nathan said,. “You might want to stay for this Detective McCrary. Some of what I am going to say possibly involves the murderer of Tyler Cunningham.”

  It’s hard to handle that much on an empty stomach. My Mom always offered snacks to visitors and sometimes I try to be like her. This was one of those times.

  “I’m going to put on a pot of coffee. I have some delicious chocolate cake in the fridge. I suggest we move into the dining room, because frankly, after everything that happened today, I need a chocolate fix. Does anyone prefer tea or a soda?”

  Director Kincaid asked for tea, and everyone else was fine with coffee. They settled around the dining room table, and I made my way to the kitchen where I waited for my pounding heart to settle back to normal. Chocolate and caffeine were my top priorities.

  42

  DIRECTOR KINCAID TOOK a sip of the chai tea latte I’d fixed for him and declared it to be the best he’d tasted. Then he forked a generous portion from his slice of double chocolate cake and chewed slowly, as though gathering his thoughts.

  “Kim, I had my doubts at first, but you and your friends accomplished what we were unable
to.”

  McCrary eyes reflected his surprise, while the Director continued.

  “I have to go on record. Nothing could have convinced me to put Nathan’s wife or friends in such a risky situation without extreme surveillance. There was never a moment where we didn’t know where you were or what situation you were in. So, it is to my team’s credit that you never picked up on the fact that you were under scrutiny every minute. It was imperative to the operation for you to move around freely, follow your instincts, and not be aware you were followed. That way it wouldn’t appear the entire thing was orchestrated. There were times when you did the unexpected, but we were always there. Congratulations. You three did a superb job.”

  Followed every minute of the day? That was news. I didn’t know whether to be relieved or angry. If I had to choose, though, relief was definitely the stronger of the two. I guess once Kim offered herself as the person to find the mole, Nathan knew his wife well enough not to forbid her to do it or she might have gone off and tried something foolish on her own. As she explained to him, she was the perfect person to go undercover and was certain that since we were successful before, we could do it again. It was always her intention to pull us into her plans. Thanks to Kim, Stephanie wouldn’t be doing any more spying. Instead, she would sport a not-so-stylish orange jumpsuit for quite a while. As for her mysterious benefactor, with all of the new developments, the odds were Stephanie’s sugar daddy was Jonathan Reid himself.

  I’ve said Kim is the most conservative of our little group, but she also has a very stubborn streak. If she decides she is going to do something, she does it. Frankly, I’d been upset with Nathan for allowing her to be involved in what could have ultimately cost us our lives. However, my faith was restored after learning Kim was the one who insisted upon doing it and from the time she took on the assignment Director Kincaid constantly kept Nathan informed of our activities,. The one thing they hadn’t anticipated was that Jonathan Reid was also Kenneth Monnigan. By him showing up for that meeting, my cover was blown the minute he saw me.